Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair
by cooopercrisp
Summary: AU, based loosely on events from "The Half-Blood Prince." What would have happened if, tormented by unrequited love, two close friends turned to each other to fill the voids in their own hearts? WARNING: Chapter 10 is rated M.
1. As If They Were Two Strangers

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 1: As If They Were Two Strangers**  
**

Being sixteen years old was a hell of a lot harder than most people realized. Harry Potter learned this the hard way. He learned that brewing adolescent hormones, unrequited love, and a large group of teenagers confined in a boarding school made for one foul potion indeed.

Sure, he was The Boy Who Lived, or The Chosen One, or whatever girls decided to call him in their diaries these days, but he was as clueless as Ron about girls—perhaps even more clueless now, what with he and Lavender locking lips alarmingly frequently. Yes, of course, there was Cho Chang from the year before, but that had been short-lived and still left bitterness whenever he thought about it.

The real problem stemmed from his lingering passions for his best friend's sister. Seeing Ginny dining in the Great Hall three meals a day never satiated his hunger for her. Watching her fly across the Quidditch Pitch during practice made him forget to seek the Snitch from time to time (though he never allowed his mind to wander at an actual game). And, if she somehow crawled into his thoughts during classes, he could swear his wand sent out sparks as flaming red as her hair. But what was he to do about it? She was his best friend's sister.

Harry was lucky, however. He had two great friends on which to rely. Obviously, divulging his passions to Ron was completely out of the question. Having lost his best friend for a spell two years previously, he never wanted to relive the painful experience. That only left Hermione, whom he trusted much more with such information, yet Harry sensed that her incredible intellect did not extend to such personal emotions.

It was very unfair of him to think so, and if he knew the extent to which Hermione was infatuated with Ron, he would have realized his own feelings paled in comparison. Of course, discussing such matters with Hermione was bound to be awkward. If it had been anyone but Ginny, Ron would have been a far more comforting friend on which he could rely.

The months lingered on, and November came, bringing with it the bitter cold that promised a heavy winter season. Harry had far more than his own emotions to worry about; he was also greatly occupied by his difficult coursework, Quidditch practice, and his private lessons with Professor Dumbledore. Hermione had twice the workload he had, but seemed to finish it all in half the time. Though Harry was envious of this, it meant that she was usually available to talk to when he was free himself.

This was too convenient an opportunity to pass up for long, and one cold night, he found himself alone with her in the Gryffindor Common Room. Ron had put off his ever increasing pile of work to take the night off and go to sleep, and Harry had just finished a grueling essay for Snape's Defense against the Dark Arts class. He set it aside and gazed at Hermione, who was knitting a hat by the fireside.

Something curious stirred inside Harry when he looked at her. Perhaps it was the uncharacteristic aura of calm Hermione was exuding, but she seemed radiant sitting by the fireside. Her hair, though unkempt, was striking in its chestnut color. Her skin was fair and soft, and there was something in her brown eyes that seemed almost alluring. Harry couldn't place what was squirming in his stomach while in Hermione's presence, which was unfortunate; it might have been a warning to stay away.

"Hermione," he said, "I really need to talk with you." The sentence had stumbled out awkwardly, which was strange, as Harry was usually far more comfortable talking to Hermione. Nevertheless, she set her knitting aside and gazed intently at Harry, which made him shudder.

"All right, then," she said, "what is it?"

Harry's throat suddenly went dry, and he found it difficult to speak. He finally conceded and uttered a single word: "Ginny."

"I thought so," she said, a bit condescendingly but with heartfelt sympathy. "Even Ron's started to notice how you act funny when you're around her."

"How do I act funny?" Harry demanded.

"Well, simply put, it's the same way you used to act around Cho."

"Oh," Harry said, and he felt his stomach plummet.

"It's not a bad thing, you know, Harry. It's perfectly normal how you're feeling."

"I wish it weren't."

"Believe me; I _completely_ understand where you're coming from. I've been feeling the same way for a while, you know, abnormal."

Harry was surprised to hear this coming from bookworm Hermione Granger. "Really?" he asked, "No, don't tell me you're falling for _him_…"

"How did you guess?"

"Really? _That_ bloke? You can do loads better than him, Hermione. I mean, I understand he's been all over you lately."

"In _what_ universe? The one where Lavender Brown ceases to exist?"

Harry stopped, suddenly confused. "Who are you talking about?"

"Who are _you_ talking about?"

"I was talking about Cormac McLaggen." At this, Hermione burst into laughter, and at the sight of such a joyous smile Harry's stomach began to squirm again.

"Not even if he were the last wizard on Earth!" she cried when she regained her composure. "I was talking about Ron!"

"Right, of course," Harry said before the weight of that statement hit him like a Bludger. "RON?"

"Keep your voice down!" Hermione hissed. Harry shook his head and pointed his wand at the two staircases leading to the dormitories, as well as the back of the portrait of the Fat Lady. He said "_Muffliato_" at each thing he pointed at.

"Sorry," he said, "I know you hate that spell."

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said, which made Harry question her sanity.

"Really?" he asked, "Ron? Ron Weasley, our best friend since God knows how long?"

"Regrettably."

"I'm at a loss for words."

"How do you think I feel?"

"It must be awful, seeing him with Lavender every day. Honestly, I think it's revolting, the way they hang all over each other."

"And the snogging," Hermione added with a grimace.

"Right, I can't forget the snogging."

"Oh, just thinking about those two infuriates me. Can we drop it?"

"Sure." The two sat in a bit of an awkward silence. They exchanged nervous glances once in a while, and then quickly looked away if they made eye contact. It was as if they were two strangers interested in each other but trying to hide it.

"Well," Harry said, "we have a lot more in common than I thought."

"What do you mean?"

"We're both in love with a Weasley."

"Yes, that is quite strange." Another long pause passed.

"I'll be honest," Harry said, "I'm really surprised."

"How so?"

"You always seemed to me like the type of girl who didn't have time to be in love. I guess I'm just naïve, or I don't know you as well as I thought."

"Believe me, Harry; my emotions were far more surprising to me than they are to you. For the longest time I tried to deny them."

"Longest time? How long?"

"Well, I think as long as I've known him. Hold on, let me clarify. I didn't really begin to notice until third year, and I didn't accept it until fifth, and now it's haunting me day and night." Hermione suddenly turned away, and Harry noticed her cheeks turning red.

"Wow," Harry said in awe, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said shakily, "It's my fault." When she said that, she began to cry uncontrollably. Harry panicked for a moment, but realized that, of course, he needed to be a good friend. He sat down next to Hermione on the couch and gave her a hug, which she returned. She held Harry tightly while crying into his shoulder, and though Harry was alarmed, he felt better about comforting his friend.

"God," she finally said, "I'm a wreck. Do you have any tissues?"

"I can't say I do."

"Oh, never mind. Just give me that hat." Harry did, and Hermione took it and blew her nose into it. She cleared her sinuses and wiped her eyes before tossing it aside.

"Well," Harry said, "sadly, I think Dobby will still wear it." Hermione laughed, and Harry couldn't help but grin as well.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. You must be sick of girls crying all over you by now."

"It's quite all right, Hermione. You don't have to apologize. Didn't you just tell me these feelings are normal?"

"I was telling you that in the hopes that I could convince myself. What's normal about being madly in love with your best friend?"

"Or his sister?" Hermione laughed again. Harry didn't think he was being particularly witty, but apparently Hermione did.

"Harry, you've no idea how much of a relief it is to tell somebody about this. I feel better than I've felt in a long time."

"Hey, I feel the same way. Thank you."

"No, thank _you_."

"Oh, I think I should be thanking _you_!" At the last word, Harry poked Hermione in the stomach.

"Don't do that, Harry. It tickles."

"What does? _This_?" Harry poked Hermione's stomach again.

"Yes, _that_!" Hermione poked Harry in the stomach. Harry let out a laugh.

"See? I told you," Hermione said with a devilish grin. Harry responded by poking her five successive times.

"Watch it, Harry. You poke me like that again and I'll sock you." Harry smiled, pretended to restrain himself, and then poked Hermione as gently as he could. Hermione, true to her word, punched him as hard as she could in the stomach. Harry groaned in pain as he keeled over.

"Jesus, Hermione, you've got an arm! Now I know how Malfoy felt third year when you hit him in the face."

"Well, I did warn you."

"Yeah, you did, but that really _hurt_."

"What, do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?"

"I don't know."

"Shut up. You're not serious, are you?"

"No, but I almost am."

"Good. Maybe you've learned your lesson then."

"What, about doing _this?_" Harry poked Hermione in the stomach again, but this time he jumped off of the couch before Hermione could punch him again.

"Damn you, Harry Potter!" she cried before launching a pillow at him. Harry caught it and threw it aside as Hermione chased him around the Common Room. She finally cornered him and tackled him to the floor, where they rolled around for a minute. Suddenly, they found themselves inches from each other's face, with Hermione lying on top of Harry. Her heavy breath was fogging his glasses.

"Maybe we should calm down a bit," Harry suggested.

"You're right, maybe we should," Hermione replied, "but where's the fun in that?" Suddenly, and completely unexpectedly, Hermione kissed Harry flat on the lips for a good five seconds, then pulled away. Harry stared at her in disbelief, but then he took her brown locks in his hand and pulled her in for a longer, more passionate kiss. After about a minute had passed, they stopped again. This time, they picked themselves up off of the wooden floor and straightened themselves up.

"Perhaps it's best to call it a night," Hermione said.

"Perhaps," Harry remarked, "but where's the fun in that?" For a second, Hermione was stirred, but she managed to shake it off.

"I'm serious, I'm very tired and I _really_ think we should sleep this off."

"All right, then, I guess you have a point. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Harry." However, neither of them moved. Instead, they gazed into each other's eyes for a heart-stopping moment. Suddenly, they began to kiss again. Harry felt her soft skin against his, her lips pressed against his own, and soon he forgot all else. After another endless minute, they pulled away again.

"I mean it," Hermione said, "we should _really_ go to bed. Good night!" Hermione deliberately marched up the stairs to her dormitory. Reluctantly, though he was very confused, Harry did the same.


	2. Flying Towards the Setting Sun

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 2: Flying Towards the Setting Sun

As Harry walked into the bedroom he heard the telltale signs of Ron snoring. Harry paused to listen to his best friend, whom he loved with all his heart, and he realized that he really was a bloke. Ron was blind to his influence over that night's unexpected events, and as he snored away, Harry realized that he would perhaps never truly understand how strongly Hermione felt for him. Ron suddenly snorted loudly, which made Harry step back. Then, he realized how exhausted he was, so he went to his four-poster, drew the curtains, changed into his nightwear, placed his glasses on the nightstand, and tucked himself in.

It took him a long time to fall asleep; though he was beyond tired, his thoughts were wide awake and racing through his mind. Unbidden, his thinking returned again and again to Hermione.

He started to form conversations with her in his mind, conversations in which she confessed her passions for him and threw herself into his waiting arms.

He pictured the two of them, alone, kissing by the warmth of the Common Room fireplace, or under the bleachers of the Quidditch Pitch, or beneath a shady tree near the lake while the giant squid flailed his long tentacles.

He pictured her lying in his bed, arms stretched over her head, gazing at him with a heart-melting stare. He saw her slowly, deliberately, reaching for the folds of her robes, only to reveal her soft white skin beneath.

Harry's eyes shot open, and he noticed his armpits were growing moist with sweat. He had only had those kinds of thoughts about one other person: Ginny. He had never even fantasized that way about Cho. But, there it was, five fleeting minutes of kissing and he was undressing his best friend in his own filthy, perverted mind.

Something was definitely coming over him, more intrusive than Snape's barrages into Harry's memories last year, almost as probing as Voldemort's own mental manipulations. That white-hot monster, which had burned so long for Ginny, was beginning to burn with a new flame, one that Harry had never expected before tonight.

As soon as he realized this, Harry tried to lock those thoughts in a prison in the back of his mind. In no way did he want to risk contaminating his friendship with such sinful passions—not only his friendship with Hermione, but the one with Ron as well. Lavender aside, if Ron ever found out how Harry felt, Harry was sure that he would lose his best friend. He had suspected before that Ron had felt strongly for Hermione, but had been too afraid to act on those feelings.

But the more he attempted to repress his feelings, the stronger those feelings became. Soon he was not only undressing Hermione, he was imagining how it would feel to make love to her. The two of them, sprawled on the bed, feeling their bodies pressed close—it was almost more than he could stand.

He did not know when those thoughts turned to dreams, but all of a sudden he was alone in his four-poster bed, which rested in the center of a small, circular room with stone walls. Though he wasn't wearing glasses, Harry could see perfectly. The room was lit by candles adorning the walls, and there was heavenly incense in the air, not unlike the one he had smelled in Professor Slughorn's class the day he had been introduced to Amortentia.

He took a moment to smell it more carefully, and he could make out three distinct scents. The first two were instantly recognizable as treacle tart and his Firebolt, but the third one was almost foreign to him. The only other time he remembered smelling it was earlier that night…

Almost as if on cue, he saw a figure walk towards him. When the figure came close to the candlelight, the light revealed Hermione's head and bare legs. All else was rendered invisible, and Harry realized she was wearing his Invisibility Cloak. He tried to ask her where she had gotten the Cloak, but her dark brown eyes seemed to make him lose all control of his vocal cords, so he let out a soft groan instead.

Hermione smiled lasciviously and asked him, with complete control over her own vocal cords, "What do you think I am wearing under this Cloak?" She walked slowly towards him while she waited for a reply.

Harry was flustered, and no sound could come out of his mouth even if he tried.

"So," she asked, "you say nothing? Well, Harry Potter, you are correct. You pass with distinction." Harry had to laugh; only Hermione would bring up grades at a time like this.

"Now," she whispered, as she was close enough to Harry to do so, "I would ask you what _you_ are wearing, but I see you are quite incapable of speech. So, I'll just have to find out for myself." With that, she threw off the scarlet blanket Harry was under, and Harry was as surprised as she was at what was revealed.

"I guess you were right again, Harry. Now, I'm having a bit of trouble freeing myself from your Cloak. You might have to help me out of it." It felt odd for Harry to feel for the fold of an invisible fabric, especially because it was wrapped so tightly around Hermione that he couldn't help but notice her curves. He finally grasped onto a fold and pulled at it, and the entire Cloak came off of Hermione with ease.

"Oh," she said, "I guess it wasn't as tightly wrapped as I thought. Well, I can see you're excited to see me, so what are we waiting for?" Hermione swung her leg over Harry and lay on top of him, kissing him with fervor. The foreign smell now filled his nostrils, and he recognized that it was the scent of her hair.

Harry was jarred awake, breathing heavily, because Ron had uttered a humongous snort. He thought he heard Neville mutter something angrily. If Neville had been having the same dream as Harry, he would have been furious.

...

As Hermione walked up the stairway to her dormitory, her heart was pounding and her thoughts were a blur. When she walked into her room, she saw Lavender reading a textbook by wandlight. Hermione ignored her, as she was accustomed now, but she did not feel that familiar pang of jealousy when she saw her. Hermione knew why, but was alarmed at how immediate the change had come.

As she prepared for bed, she wondered if she had suddenly gotten over her affection for Ron. At the thought of him, she soon realized that she hadn't, but did note that the affection had lost a lot of its intensity. She still hoped to be with him; she was not, however, aching to see him and awaiting their next encounter. Again, Hermione knew the cause of this change, but was amazed at the immediacy of it.

When her head hit the pillow, the cloud of thought became more focused, and she found her mind was racing with questions. How did she really feel about Ron? About Harry? What had compelled her to kiss Harry? Why did she kiss him three times, not just once? Was she falling in love with Harry? Could she love two people at once? How would Ron feel if he found out? How would she feel being around both of them tomorrow morning? Being the academic that she was, she tried to slow down the questions and reason through the problem logically.

This morning, she was madly in love with Ron Weasley. She had shivered when her hand brushed against his as he passed her some toast.

This evening, she had kissed Harry Potter. That still came as a shock.

Now, her feelings for Ron were diluted with those she had for Harry. This was the part that confused her. Coming from a traditional family, she had thought that one man—just one—could satisfy a woman's every need, and that was the man Hermione would marry. Now, she realized that she wanted a deep companionship from Ron, but felt a physical longing for Harry.

But then Hermione began to remember things which she had apparently repressed. She saw Harry playing Quidditch, legs straddling his broomstick, his body leaning forward, his arms flexed. That's when she realized that her longing for Harry wasn't new; it had just never been recognized.

Well, she certainly recognized it now, and it explained tonight's boldness and the incredible emotion she felt with her lips pressed against Harry's. Just recalling that now seemed to make her quiver with raw energy.

When she had first met Harry, he was a scrawny kid wearing clothes that were too large for him. Now, after years of Quidditch, he was a lean young man with a strong jaw and a friendly charm in his emerald green eyes. Hermione had seen Harry grow up, and the result was stunning.

But then all sorts of new questions formed in her mind. Was she good enough for him? Was he physically attracted to her? Why did he kiss her so strongly? Was she worthy of The Chosen One? Liking Ron had made sense; he was far plainer than Harry, and thus she felt equal to him in terms of physical appearance. She had been furious when Ron had chosen to date that pretty little whore Lavender Brown. Now, when she compared her appearance to Harry's, she felt woefully insecure and confused.

Her own self-image was, alas, a false one. As much as she had noticed Harry's growth, she had failed to notice her own. In her mind, she was still that buck-toothed, bushy-haired, chipmunk of a girl that she had been when she was eleven. Now, her hair was far tamer, her teeth were far straighter, and her bodice was far more curvaceous. Ron had noticed that when he had seen her at the Yule Ball, but Hermione failed to recall the way she had looked then.

If she knew what Harry was thinking now, she wouldn't have doubted her own physical attractiveness. As it was, however, she could not read Harry's mind, and so she still thought negatively of her body. This led to the question: Why had Harry kissed her so strongly?

She could think of no other answer, so she consigned herself to the fact that somehow, Harry found her attractive. Either that, or he had raging hormones and would have felt the same if he were kissing Pansy Parkinson.

As sleep began to take her, the questions began to fade, and Hermione allowed her mind to wander freely. It quickly wandered to the raw excitement of holding Harry close, and soon those thoughts blossomed into a wonderful dream.

She was lying in a field full of blooming flowers of all sorts, beneath a clear blue sky. As Hermione gazed above, she saw a figure approach from the sky, looming ever closer. Soon, she recognized Harry flying on his Firebolt, and when he landed smoothly next to her, her stomach fluttered.

Harry offered her a hand, and she gladly took it and let him help her stand. When she was standing, he wrapped his hand around her back and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Hermione's arms wrapped around his neck, and she could feel her heart beat with excitement. When they finally broke away from each other, Harry asked, "Do you want a ride?"

Hermione nodded, and suddenly she was on the broomstick behind Harry. Harry kicked up, and the broomstick launched skyward as if it had a mind of its own. Frightened, Hermione clenched her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around Harry's stomach. When Harry had the broomstick flying steady, Hermione opened her eyes and looked below. She was flying above the clearest lake, the water sparkling beneath the bright sunlight. She gasped in wonder, and when she looked back at Harry, she saw his face returning the gaze, smiling the same boyish smile he always seemed to have. Hermione's heart leaped with a thrill and her face lit up with the brightest smile.

Her last memory from the dream was of the two of them flying towards the setting sun.


	3. Nobody's Life Is Normal

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 3: Nobody's Life Is Normal

Breakfast the next morning could not have been more awkward.

Harry was sitting across from Hermione. She was sitting next to Ron. Ginny was sitting next to Harry.

They were all grateful to have food to chew on. It gave them all an excuse not to talk. Ron and Hermione had not talked since he had started dating Lavender. Harry wanted to talk to Hermione, just not in front of the Weasleys who were causing them such heartache. Harry could have been talking to Ron, but he was worried that he would let something slip and cause a lot of unnecessary embarrassment. And, to be honest, none of them cared to say anything to Ginny.

Ginny was the first to finish eating, and she found no reason to stick around afterward. She left for her first class fifteen minutes early.

Shortly after Ginny left, Professor McGonagall walked past the three friends on her normal rounds through the Great Hall. She stopped dead in her tracks and backed up, looking quite puzzled.

"My goodness," she whispered, hoping not to draw attention to the three of them, "I don't believe I have ever heard you three eat so quietly."

"Well, Professor," Hermione said, "we studied hard for your Transfiguration exam today, and we're just exhausted." Harry and Ron nodded in agreement, remembering how frustrated they had been during their review of the material. It had been that test that had caused Ron to go to bed fuming the night before.

"Well, Miss Granger, I will have to take your word for it," Professor McGonagall replied, "but I must say that I have given out many tests to you in the past, and yet you three have always been quite loquacious on those mornings." With that, she walked off briskly, leaving the three friends feeling far more anxious.

"Guys," Ron said, clearly hoping to break the awkward silence, "I am _screwed up the ass_ on this test today. I can't remember anything I've studied the night before."

"Perhaps that's because you hardly studied at all last night," Hermione muttered, eyes focused on her ham and eggs. Harry froze, awaiting a reaction in an atmosphere that had suddenly become thick with tension.

"Well," Ron said, his ears beginning to turn red, "excuse me for wanting a good night's rest before an exam. You know, sleep is really nice, Hermione. Why don't you give it a try sometime?"

"I'll have you know," she said, still refusing to look at him, "that I slept wonderfully last night, thank you very much."

"Sure you did," Ron scoffed. Harry deliberately took a very large bite of eggs and pretended to choke on them.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, and as soon as he had gotten his friends' attention, Harry swallowed the morsel of eggs.

"What?" he asked.

"My goodness," Hermione said, "for a second, I thought you were choking. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Hermione. Honest."

"Okay," she said, her breath calming now. Harry's diversion had bought just enough time; he saw Lavender jogging down the length of the table not a second later.

"Won-Won!" she cried as she gave Ron a bone-crushing hug and smothered him with kisses, "How did you sleep?"

"Just fine, dear. How about you?"

"Oh, I slept _wonderfully_. Guess who I was dreaming about?"

"Hmm…Seamus?" Ron asked in a playful manner. Everyone at the Gryffindor table, including Ron, knew the answer.

Harry chewed as loudly as he could to try to block them out. Ron and Lavender had been cute for about three days; now the sight of them nauseated him. Hermione was even more annoyed, and she caught Harry's eye for a moment and rolled her eyes. Harry nodded in agreement.

Harry finished eating, and like Ginny, he wasted no time getting up and going off to class. Hermione quickly followed him, leaving behind a half-finished breakfast. Unfortunately, when they passed by the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy got up to follow them out of the hall.

"Cat got your tongue, Potter?" he sneered, an inch from Harry's ear, "No, wait, _I_ know who's got your tongue these days." Malfoy broke away from Harry, laughing to himself. Harry kept a calm countenance, but he was internally mortified.

"Relax, Harry," Hermione said, "he noticed when Professor McGonagall stopped at our table. He was talking about her."

"Oh," Harry said, not altogether reassured, "that's…strange."

"Well, that's Malfoy for you."

"Don't I know it… Hey, I really need to talk to you for a second."

"Oy! Wait up!" Harry and Hermione turned, and they saw Ron running towards them, dragging a positively giddy Lavender. Harry's heart sank.

"We're all headed to Herbology, right?" Ron asked. Harry and Hermione nodded. The four of them began walking to the greenhouses. Harry was very annoyed, and he walked with an angry gait. Hermione knew Harry was upset, and she really wanted to talk to him, but she could think of no good way to break off from the dynamic duo without arousing their suspicion.

A few minutes later, class had started, and today Professor Sprout was asking the students to pair up so they could prune small growths of Devil's Snare. Given that Ron had been working with Lavender ever since they'd started dating, Harry had little choice but to partner with Hermione.

Knowing Devil's Snare all too well, the work was second nature for them. Hermione merely subdued the plant by lighting her wand tip aflame while Harry worked quickly with the shearers, for once thankful of all the hedges his Aunt Petunia had made him trim.

Because of these things, they were the first group done, and in turn Professor Sprout asked them to water the Flutterby bushes over in Greenhouse 1. They were happy to oblige, and took the watering cans and left the greenhouse in a hurry.

"Finally," Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief, "I've been dying to talk to you all morning." But suddenly, both of their minds went blank. There were so many questions, and yet there were so many reasons not to ask them.

"How…was your night?" Harry asked, in an attempt to start some conversation. The bushes he was watering began to bristle in fright.

"All right," Hermione answered cryptically. "Yours?"

"It was pretty good." They didn't talk for about half a minute after that.

"Oh, this is stupid!" Hermione exclaimed, accidentally stepping on one of the bushes, which practically leaped in fright. "I couldn't stop thinking about you last night, Harry. You were in my dreams. Last night I dreamed I was in a field, and you flew down on your broomstick and took me up into the sky and we were flying towards the setting sun and I couldn't help thinking how romantic it was and—" Hermione suddenly flushed with embarrassment and said no more.

Harry was still very afraid to talk, but he had been inspired by Hermione's candor, so he stumbled ahead. "I…thought a lot about you, too…and you were also…in my dream last night."

"Really?" she asked, her stomach fluttering worse than the bush she was watering, "What was it about?" Harry's face turned bright red and he turned away.

"Nothing," he said.

"Come off it, you must have dreamed _something_," she said. "I told you my dream."

"Yes, but mine's far more…"

"Far more what?"

"Scandalous." Hermione started to laugh.

"'Scandalous?' What about me is so _scandalous_?" Harry's cheeks grew even redder.

"Well, for starters…you were wearing my Invisibility Cloak."

"Okay, so what?" she asked. Harry was surprised; he thought she was clever enough to get the hint.

"You were wearing _only_ the Invisibility Cloak."

"Oh," Hermione said in realization.

"Do I have to keep going?"

"No, I think…I think I've got it." Now Hermione's face was turning red, but for a far different reason.

"Well?" Harry asked. "You seem surprised."

"I do?" she asked, "Well…it's nothing, really, it's just…_he_ doesn't think I'm pretty." Harry was quite confused.

"Who doesn't think that?" he asked.

"Who do you think?" Hermione exclaimed, and suddenly she felt hot tears begin to stream down her cheeks. Harry dropped his pot and gave her a hug, which she gladly welcomed. She sobbed a bit more loudly now.

"Oh, look at me!" she said after a while, "This is the second time in two days I've burst out crying. I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Don't apologize," he said, "it's quite all right."

"No, it's not. You must think I'm such a burden." Harry became exasperated.

"Hermione, for God's sake, you're my best friend! The _last_ thing you are to me is a burden."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure! I saved you from a troll, remember?"

"So did Ron," she said through more tears, "but look at us now. He wants nothing to do with me."

"He's a git," Harry said, and he was shocked at how angry he was at his friend. "Ron doesn't know what he's missing."

"It's not just about Lavender, though," Hermione said, "he's been cold to me for a long time now. You see how he is, always picking arguments with me, acting sarcastic when I don't understand something about Quidditch…I mean, what happened to us?"

Harry suddenly recalled something from deep in his childhood, before he had known he was a wizard. He had been in grade school, and he had had a crush on another girl. Madeleine Peterson, he would never forget that name. To him, she'd been incredibly pretty, and he'd been morbidly afraid of her. He hadn't wanted her to know he liked her, because he'd been afraid she would reject him. So, to ensure that she had thought otherwise, he'd teased her, pulled on her pigtails, and even tripped her when they were playing hopscotch. It was only when he'd made her cry that he had stopped, and till this day he still felt horrible about the way he treated her. He had vowed that day never to hurt anyone deliberately like that ever again, a pact he kept even now, years later.

"Maybe…call me crazy, Hermione…he's afraid of his own feelings."

"What do you mean?"

"Back when I was really young, I loved a girl named Madeleine, but I didn't want her to know that, so I tormented her. I'm not proud of what I did, but I knew it was a shield to protect me from being rejected by her."

"That's nonsense, Harry. You see how Ron is with Lavender. They can't get enough of each other."

"Lavender might be an alibi. Who could ever guess that he's in love with you when he seems so happy with her?"

"That's insane!" Hermione said, "It's so insane, that it sounds like something Ron would do. But that means…"

"Ron must have feelings for you."

"Oh, Harry, don't give me any false hope," Hermione cried, "I can't stand another rejection from him. Don't you remember the Yule Ball?"

"Yeah, you were nose-to-nose with Viktor Krum all night."

"I waited so long for Ron to ask me to the ball!" Hermione cried. "Like a stupid schoolgirl, I didn't have the guts to ask him myself! But then Viktor came along, and when he asked me to the ball, I was sure Ron was never going to ask me, so I said yes. And then Ron made that damned comment about me being a girl, and I was so upset with myself! He would have asked me, Harry! Do you know how different things would be now if I had waited for him to come around?"

"Hermione," Harry said, "you can't torture yourself with the past. Ron may have asked you, or he may not have, but the fact of the matter is, you didn't go to the ball with him. You can't change your past, Hermione; you can only cope with it. Do you know how many times I wished Voldemort had picked Neville instead of me? But Voldemort chose me. That is my past, and I can't do anything to change it. I can only deal with it now, and wonder what it would have been like to have a normal life."

"Nobody's life is normal, Harry. We're all too crazy." With that, the bell rang, and Harry and Hermione reluctantly returned to the greenhouse to give Professor Sprout back her watering cans. They deliberately took their time to pack their things, allowing the rest of their class to get a head start to Transfiguration. This bought them about five extra minutes of relative privacy.

"What about that kiss?" Hermione asked. Harry groaned; he was hoping to put off that discussion, but he knew he would have put it off indefinitely if Hermione hadn't said anything.

"You mean 'kisses,' Hermione. There were three, as far as I can recall."

"Oh, never mind the details. What about them?"

"I don't know…I think you should talk to Ron. Let him know how you feel. You don't have to tell him what happened with us."

"I can't tell him how I feel, Harry. He's with Lavender. I'm sure he'll reject me. And besides, even if he does, and he somehow magically dumps Lavender and falls in love with me, where does that leave you? You'll be all alone."

"Don't worry about me, Hermione. I'm used to being alone."

"Yes, but that's not the life you deserve, Harry. You deserve a girl who loves you with all her heart."

"You're right, but do you think that girl might be you?" Hermione froze, unsure of what to say.

"Well…I know you don't know this, but I've thought about you for a while now. Those kisses didn't come out of the blue. I'm losing all hope that I'll be with Ron, and as that hope fades, I feel more strongly attached to you."

"Well…" Harry said, "I don't know what to say to that. We need to talk later, when we're not rushing off to class."

"When will that happen?"

"Hmm…I've got it!" Harry said, feeling wonderfully brilliant all of a sudden. "The next Slug Club dinner is this Friday. We'll tell Ron that Professor Slughorn is dragging us to it, but we can use that time to talk instead. Does that sound okay?"

"That's perfect, Harry."

"Great. In the meantime, though, I really hope you'll talk to Ron. Can you promise me you'll do that?"

"I can't make that promise, Harry," she said. Harry sighed in dismay. "But I will certainly try. Is that all right?" Harry didn't answer. "Well, I'm sorry, Harry, but it's the best I can promise you right now."

"It's all right, Hermione. I understand."

"Thank you." With their plans set in place, the two of them walked into the Transfiguration classroom just as the bell rang, where Professor McGonagall was already handing out a particularly long exam.


	4. Is This the Way a Friendship Dies?

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 4: Is This the Way a Friendship Dies?

Hermione suddenly found herself under a great deal of pressure, more than she had ever previously known. For years, she had hidden her heart from Ron, and now Harry suddenly expected her to confess all of her feelings to him in three days. Meanwhile, all Harry had to do was wait; he had made no promise to talk to Ginny. This aggravated her immensely, but she refused to talk to Harry because their relationship was on shaky ground already. She didn't find it wise to push the envelope.

Hermione had difficulty accomplishing tasks under pressure, contrary to what most other students thought. That was why she began studying for exams before her classmates even began to think about them. Consequently, she found it harder than ever to strike up a conversation with Ron. But as Tuesday became Wednesday, she began to panic. When Wednesday turned to Thursday, her heart was racing and she could barely focus on her schoolwork. By Friday morning, she was ready to pull her hair out of her head, and knew something had to give.

Before entering the Great Hall, Hermione dragged Harry behind the hourglass, not caring what Ron or anyone else thought.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"You have no idea," she said, breathing slowly so as not to scream at him, "how difficult it is for me to do what you asked me to."

"Talk to Ron?"

"No, Harry, stand on my head. Of course I mean talking to Ron!"

"Okay, okay. Relax."

"Relax?" she asked, already feeling her blood begin to boil, "You're asking me to relax?"

"No, no, never mind, don't relax. Just...it's okay if you can't talk to Ron. You said you would try and that's okay with me."

"Well, I feel like you still want me to talk to him."

"I guess so...it would be nice."

"Well, if I'm going to talk to Ron today, you need to talk to Ginny."

"Why should I?"

"Don't even go there, Harry. You can't expect me to give my heart away if you aren't willing to do the same in return."

"Okay, you're right. It's not fair of me to do that. I'll make you a deal. If we both talk to our Weasley, then we're making great progress. If neither of us does, that's okay, too. If one of us talks and the other caves...we'll need to set some kind of stakes."

"That's fair," Hermione said, actually beginning to calm down now. "If I talk and you fold, I won't check your homework for a month."

"A month? That's harsh."

"Then that should serve to sufficiently motivate you. How about you?"

"Okay, if I talk and you fold..." Harry was having difficulty imagining a sufficient punishment. Suddenly, he formed a brilliant idea. "...you have to practice Quidditch with me." Hermione's knees began to shake; flying was the only wizarding skill other than Divination at which she was a miserable failure.

"Deal," she said. "Let's eat some breakfast."

...

Given that Hermione was in all of Ron's classes, she was able to muster up her courage during Charms and ask him to talk with her at lunch. Harry noticed this, and knew that, unless he wanted to fail his next month of classes, he would have to pony up and do the same.

But the one time he was desperate to find Ginny was the one time when she vanished into thin air. He strained his neck looking for her in the hallways between classes, and quickly found out that he needed to find her at lunch to set up a conversation over dinner. But Ginny wasn't in the Great Hall for lunch, and she was nowhere in sight when Harry looked for her in the library. He later found out that Ginny had gone to the Hospital Wing for a minor ear infection, but he did not think to check there at the time.

Harry was fuming when he went to Potions that afternoon. His temper was so short, he almost misread the instructions of the Half-Blood Prince and melted his cauldron.

When he stormed out of class for dinner, he barely looked where he was walking. As a result, he nearly plowed into Ginny head-on. He looked up at the last minute and stopped himself just before colliding with her.

"Sorry," he said quickly, and almost let her walk past with her friends. "Wait!" he cried after her.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked. Her friends were also eager to hear.

"I'd really like to have a word with you…erm…alone." Her friends began to giggle, and Harry wanted to strangle them all, but Ginny stayed calm.

"All right, then," she said, and she followed Harry to an abandoned corridor. Well, it was almost abandoned, but they could hear the wheezing of Argus Filch approach them.

"I know where we can talk," Ginny said, and she led Harry straight to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Harry cringed when he heard Moaning Myrtle weeping in one of the U-bends, so he decided to use _Muffliato_ in the hopes of not disturbing her.

"Okay," Harry said, "it's best if I just say what I have to quickly. You know, like ripping off a bandage."

"What's a bandage?" Ginny asked. Suddenly, to Harry's shock, Moaning Myrtle soared out of the stall and flew between the two of them.

"That little trick doesn't work on ghosts, Harry," she cooed, now quite happy to see him, "The Baron told me of one other person who tried to use _Muffliato_ on him."

"Well, thanks for letting me know, Myrtle," Harry said, "now, could you give Ginny and I some privacy?"

"I don't think so. _You_ were the one who decided to intrude on _my_ privacy, so I think it's fair to return the favor."

"Fine, whatever," Harry said before turning back to Ginny. "So, like I was saying…I just need to get it all out."

"Get what all out?" Ginny asked. Myrtle had a humongous smirk on her translucent face.

"Ooh…I know what it is," she sneered.

"Shut it, Myrtle," Harry said, "I said you could listen, not interrupt."

"Well, _sorry_," Myrtle jeered.

"Okay, enough of this," Harry said, "I have a crush on you, Ginny, and I really wanted to go out with you." There was a minute of air deader than the ghost beside them.

"Well," Ginny finally said, "I thought so…I didn't want to say anything, Harry, because I didn't want to hurt your feelings…I'm just not that interested anymore."

"What do you mean, 'anymore?'" Harry asked.

"Oh," Myrtle exclaimed, "don't you remember that diary she threw at me? All this angst about the great Harry Potter and how he'd _never_ like her or want to date her."

"Thank you, Myrtle," Ginny said sharply. "Well, she's right, Harry. I used to feel that way, but I outgrew it. I knew it was foolish, really, just a childhood fantasy. I never thought you'd feel the same way."

"Well," Harry said, "I did for a while. Now I'm not so sure."

"Really? Can I ask why?"

"Let's just say I think I like somebody else."

"Oh, okay," Ginny said, "I won't ask who. I hope this girl is everything you ever wanted and more. You deserve that."

"Thank you, Ginny," Harry said, "that means a lot." Ginny left the bathroom, and Harry tried to follow her, but he was interrupted.

"Well," Myrtle said, flying right through Harry to freeze him, "Ginny might not be nosy, but I am. I want to know who this girl is, and I won't let you leave until you tell me." Harry walked through Myrtle and out the bathroom door.

"Oh, no fair!" Myrtle cried, "Come back!"

…

While Harry had been searching desperately for Ginny at lunch, Hermione was talking with Ron in the only place they were guaranteed some privacy: the prefect's bathroom. Ron wisely decided to sit with his back to the portrait of the mermaid, who had tried to seduce him when he arrived. The mermaid, feeling shunned, dove into the painted water to sulk.

"Did you bring me up here for a bath?" Ron asked as a joke. Hermione's heart skipped a beat and her throat became dry.

"Just kidding. Could you imagine?" Hermione could imagine all too well, but that was beside the point. She needed to focus.

"Ron, what I say to you is going to be very hard for me, so I really need you to listen carefully. That means no snide comments and no sarcasm until I'm done. Is that all right?"

"Ooh," came a voice from one of the stalls, "sounds like Hermione's being quite serious." Out flew Moaning Myrtle, ready to torment the two familiar faces from four years previously.

"Oh, Myrtle, why don't you just flush yourself to the bottom of the lake?" Ron asked, "You'd be doing everyone in this school a favor." Myrtle burst out crying, and, to Ron's and Hermione's surprise, she obliged. They turned away from the swirling sound of the toilet and looked at each other. Hermione turned away in embarrassment.

"Okay, Hermione," Ron said, "I won't act like a jackass until you're done."

"Thank you," Hermione said, and she took a deep breath to try to calm her nerves. Ron checked an imaginary watch on his wrist.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled, "You promised!"

"What? You haven't even started yet! No, okay, okay, I'm sorry. Really, it won't happen again. I'm listening." Hermione took another deep breath, looked at Ron, and started to cry.

"What is _wrong_ with me?" she cried to herself through her sobs. Ron got up and gave her a hug, which she accepted.

"You've been a wreck for a week, Hermione," Ron said. "What's going on?"

"I've been a wreck for years, Ron," Hermione sobbed, "about you." Ron was mortified; what could he have done to make Hermione so upset?

"Is…there anything I can do about it?" Ron asked.

_Yes!_ Hermione yelled inside her head, _you can dump that whore Lavender and go out with me! I would treat you a million times better than that slut!_ But all she said was, "No, you can't. You can't change how I feel about you."

"And how do you feel about me?" Ron asked.

"Harry's right," Hermione said, almost laughing, "you really are a git."

"What?" Ron said, completely floored, "When did he say that?"

"When I told him I was in love with you." Hermione had not expected to say that, and she grew bright red with embarrassment. Ron's ears were almost a shade of violet.

"God…" he said, "you aren't kidding, are you?"

"Afraid not," Hermione said, still blushing profusely. "I've felt that way for years."

"Well, blimey, why didn't you say anything? I mean, I could have sworn you were shagging Krum two years ago."

"Excuse me!" Hermione said, outraged but smiling, "I hope you know I'm a bit more decent than that!"

"Relax, I'm just kidding," Ron said. "But…bloody hell, I didn't expect that…" The bathroom was quiet for a good minute.

"Well?" Hermione asked.

"Well what?" Ron asked.

"What about you? How do you feel about me?"

"Oh!" Ron said, "God, I don't know what to say…I'm serious, I really don't…It's complicated. I mean, I'm with…well, you know, and…it's not like I haven't thought about it, dating you, I mean, it's just…I kinda started to move on." Hermione felt her heart sink with every word he said.

"I was afraid you'd say that," Hermione said, "I'm starting to feel the same way."

"That's really sad," Ron said, "For a while I thought I was going to marry you."

"You're joking."

"No, I'm dead serious. Just look at my ears." They were now shockingly blood-red.

"I used to think that, too," Hermione said. "What happened?"

"I don't know…but I feel like we've been growing apart for years. I mean, we barely speak to each other anymore."

"Can't we change that?" Hermione asked. "I mean, it's not too late to figure this out…is it?"

"Hermione…" Ron said, "it's complicated. I mean, one day I'm in love with you. The next day I hate even thinking about you. One minute I feel like we're the best of friends, the next you're lashing out at me and I feel brutally rejected. I don't think I can continue on like that, you know? I just can't stomach the pain anymore." Hermione was in shock. She had never heard Ron speak with such brutal honesty.

"Well…" Hermione stammered, "we blew it. I don't think I can take any more rejection either. I mean, look, you like Lavender, I'm beginning to like someone else. Maybe it's a sign we're finally growing up…. But even if we don't date, can't we still be friends? We've been through so much together, and I don't want our confused feelings to take that away from us. It's always been you, Harry, and I. Always. Does that really have to end?" Ron wanted nothing more than to say no, but his heart wasn't in it. He took a long time speaking, and that pause caused Hermione's heart to plummet.

"Hermione, I don't know if we can still be friends. I really need to think about what you've just told me…I'll let you know, I guess…" But Ron's eyes shifted away, and Hermione knew that he was speaking in half-truths.

"Is this how it ends?" she asked. "Is this the way a friendship dies?"

Ron began to stutter, but he gave up. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I can't hang around with you anymore. You're like a poison to me, and I just can't stomach the pain anymore."

"Really? You're supposedly in love with me, and now I'm like a poison to you. Great."

"Well, don't tell me you don't feel the same way. I notice you when I'm with Lavender, with that grimace on your face. You can't stand to be around me anymore. Aren't I right?"

Hermione could not say he was wrong, so she nodded.

"Then what's the point in pretending? We can't be around each other anymore. It's too hard."

Hermione was exasperated, and she couldn't stand sitting alone with Ron anymore. "Fine," she said. "I guess I'll see you around." Hermione got up and climbed out of the bathroom, hoping the sound of moving the portrait would mask her sobbing. Ron stayed in the bathroom, wiping away a stray tear on his own face.

Ron and Hermione had had a rocky relationship. There had been bickering, and then there had been explosive arguments. Crookshanks and Scabbers, Viktor Krum, the Yule Ball, and finally this, a bitter realization of their true feelings for each other. Neither of them knew if their friendship would ever recover, but at this point, it looked like it was over for good.


	5. The Emotional Capacity of a Teaspoon

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 5: The Emotional Capacity of a Teaspoon

Harry returned to the Common Room that evening and was shocked to find his two best friends working on opposite sides of the room. Sure, they had had their arguments and had refused to speak to each other, but that had usually been accompanied with anger. Now, Ron and Hermione looked calm, content. They refused to look at each other, though, and to Harry it did not seem natural.

He was relieved, though, that he would not be forcing Hermione to play Quidditch. He would have felt terrible to frighten her like that. Riding a hippogriff during their third year and a thestral their fifth had been bad enough for her.

Harry approached Ron first, knowing that he would have plenty of opportunity to speak to Hermione later. Besides, he hadn't talked to him for a while, and it looked like there was something very wrong. Any anger he had felt towards him for the past few days subsided to worry.

"Hey, Ron," he said tentatively, "are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ron said in an unnaturally high-pitched voice. Ron was terrible at veiling his emotions; Harry could already see his friend's ears grow redder.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked. Ron felt his ears and cringed at their warmth.

"Bloody things always give me away," he mumbled. "Well, you saw us when we walked in. I'll give you three guesses."

"How did you piss her off this time?" he jibed, hoping to play it off as another one of their endless quarrels.

"This is it, Harry, it's over."

"What's over?"

"I'm not friends with Hermione anymore." Harry's emotions were mixed. Though he was woefully dismayed at the apparent loss of the trio that had been close as can be the past five-and-a-half years, that sorrow was intruded by a small sense of thrilling excitement. Harry felt awful for feeling happy for himself; suddenly, he had no competition. But was that excitement worth his friend's misery? Ron sensed Harry's confusion but misinterpreted it.

"Shocked? I'm a bit surprised myself in some ways, but in other ways I could almost see it coming."

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm stunned," Harry said. This was true; he was very surprised by the revelation, but that wasn't all he was feeling. Some horrible part of him was leaping with joy, and that bothered him immensely.

"Well, there is something good about all this. I don't have the emotional capacity of a teaspoon anymore. Remember when she said that, fifth year? That really hit me, and I didn't quite understand what she meant until today."

"How's that?"

"She laid everything out on the line, Harry. Everything. I was completely blown away."

"What's everything?" Harry asked, though he had a strong suspicion of what his friend meant.

"I'd rather not say, it's kind of embarrassing." Harry felt awkward himself. After all, it had been him who had pushed Hermione to divulge to Ron how she felt about him. On top of everything else he was feeling, now he felt blanketed by overwhelming guilt. It was his fault his best friends had broken each other's hearts. Suddenly, he had no desire to talk to Ron, and it was evident that Ron felt the same way.

"It's okay, Ron," Harry said, even though it very well wasn't, "if you don't want to talk now, that's fine. But don't just bury your feelings. If you ever want to talk about it, I'm always here for you."

"Of course you are, Harry. You reckon I've forgotten?" he asked, and he gave Harry a sheepish smile that made Harry feel a tad bit better. Ron glanced at the clock in the Common Room.

"I thought I heard that Zabini kid mention a Slug Club meeting tonight. Don't those things usually start at 7:00?" Ron was merely trying to be casual. He didn't expect Harry or Hermione to go, as they hadn't gone to any of the meetings since they were on the Hogwarts Express. To his surprise, though, Harry's eyes bugged out.

"God, I'm late!" he shouted, arousing Hermione's attention. Hermione looked at the clock, which was now chiming seven. She jumped out of her seat as well.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron said, "I thought you avoided those meetings like Bubotuber Pus."

"Yeah," Harry said, "but Professor Slughorn practically blackmailed us to go tonight, and we couldn't think up any excuses this time! You had to be there, Ron, his eyes started to shift around wildly. I swear he was going to break down if we refused!"

"What an old kook," Ron said, "Oh well, save me some dessert."

"I'll try," Harry said as he and Hermione rushed out of the portrait, "but no promises. You see how much Professor Slughorn eats."

"Good point. See you, Harry." Harry and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when they left the Common Room.

"Hermione," he asked, "was that as awkward for you as it was for me?"

"Harry, you have no idea." The two of them started to walk, but then stopped.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked. With all the craziness of the day, they hadn't picked a spot to talk.

"I know," Hermione said, and she led Harry down the corridor. Harry followed, having no idea where she was taking him. As they walked, they surprisingly ran into Ginny walking the opposite way.

"Ginny," Harry said, "I thought you were going to the Slug Club meeting."

"Not tonight, Harry. I have two exams tomorrow and I haven't had a chance to study for them. Where are you two off to?"

"We're going to the meeting," Harry said. Ginny laughed.

"That's a good one, Harry. You almost had me going for a minute."

"Ginny," Hermione said, "believe me, it's the _last_ thing we want to do, but the professor insisted. He was a real fright today after our Potions class."

"I'm not stupid, Hermione," Ginny said, "the staircase is in the opposite direction. Come off it, where are you _really_ going?"

Harry had never been more annoyed with Ginny in his entire life. In his anger he said the first thing that came to his mind. "We're going to find a private room so we can have sex. There, you happy now?" Hermione's heart skipped a beat before she realized he was being sarcastic. Ginny now looked mildly offended.

"Fine, don't tell me. I'll see you later." Ginny skulked off, leaving Harry and Hermione feeling very uncomfortable.

"Harry, you really shouldn't have lost your temper," she said.

"Why not?" Harry asked, still very annoyed.

"Where do you think she's going?" Hermione asked. Harry thought about it, then realized she must have been going to the Common Room. Then he remembered who else was in the Common Room.

"Don't worry, Hermione, she's not going to complain to Ron."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Hermione. We're his best friends. She'd expect him to take our side over his little sister's. She has no idea what happened with you two today. Come to think of it, neither do I."

"I'll tell you in a minute. Let's get out of this corridor, or we'll be running into Malfoy next." The thought of running into Draco Malfoy was unpleasant, so the two of them walked quickly out of that corridor. They stopped at a wall opposite a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, and Harry knew immediately where Hermione was taking him. She walked back and forth across the wall until a door suddenly propagated out of thin air. Hermione quickly led Harry inside and shut the door. The lock clicked most satisfyingly.

The room was very homey, almost like the Common Room, with large chintz sofas and a warm fireplace. Harry and Hermione sat side-by-side on the largest sofa.

"So," Hermione said, "you and Ginny aren't exactly on friendly terms."

"Well, you and Ron don't seem too happy with each other either. What happened?"

"You go first," Hermione said, "my story is going to take a long time to explain."

"It probably will, because what happened with Ginny and I is pretty straightforward," Harry said. "Basically, I told Ginny how I felt, she said she didn't feel the same way, and we left. Honestly, I expected things to go a lot more badly."

"You're lucky," Hermione said. "What happened with Ron and I was the opposite of straightforward."

"Really? What happened?"

"Since when did he become Mr. Philosopher?" she asked abruptly, as if she expected Harry to know the answer. "Honestly, you should have heard him. I've never heard anyone talk about his emotions so plainly. And yet it was all so confusing…"

"Really? Ron explain himself plainly? Fat chance."

"That's what I expected, him to stumble badly on his words. Not at all. He made me look like the bumbling idiot. I certainly felt like one."

"I take it things didn't go well for you," Harry said.

"Please, that's an understatement. He said he'd felt the same way I did for a long time, but sometimes he couldn't bear to be around me. He even said…he said I was a poison for him." The anger Harry had harbored toward Ron was suddenly raging again.

"Cold-hearted bastard," he said. "You don't deserve that, Hermione."

"Don't I? I felt like the worst person on the face of the Earth when I was done talking to him."

"That's the opposite of the truth. You're one of the greatest people I know."

"Thanks, Harry. You should have been there, though. I can't do the conversation justice."

"Did he mention anything specific? You know, why he felt like that?"

"Well…no, not really."

"So why did you believe him?"

"You think he was lying?" Hermione asked.

"I think if he's ever been honest about how he's felt, I'll eat my wand. I mean, I know he's my best friend, but he always hides how he feels about everything."

"Well, it's not just that," Hermione said, "he said he could tell I can't stand to be with him."

"Is that true?"

"Well, it was true then. Every word that came out of his mouth made me feel more bitter towards him. But…well, he said I couldn't stand to see him with Lavender, but that has nothing to do with him. Harry, I've never hated anyone more than I hate Lavender Brown. Sometimes I just think the most awful thoughts about her. It's like I'm a completely different person around her." Harry had stopped talking because he felt his brain cranking. Something about this conversation with Ron was not adding up.

"Are you listening, Harry?"

"Absolutely, I'm trying to figure something out…Before Lavender, was there any indication that Ron felt this kind of hatred towards you?"

"What are you, a psychologist?" Hermione asked, smiling slightly.

"No, I've just got this crazy theory."

"About what?"

"About Lavender…"

"Well, I'm dying to hear it."

"Okay, well, I haven't quite made sense of it. You might be able to help with that. Okay, so, I know you and Ron have had your ups and downs, but you two have always been great friends. Suddenly, Lavender comes around, and Ron stops talking to you altogether. This has been going on for months, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, as much as you two have argued, I can't remember a single day before this year when you haven't had _anything_ to say to each other. The way I remember it, you've either tried to talk to him or he's said something sarcastic to you. Now, there's total silence between you two. That's not normal, is it?"

"No, I suppose it's not. What are you getting at, Harry?"

"I have no idea! It just seems like Lavender is the difference here. Ron said he was in love with you, right?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Hold on, I think I'm getting somewhere. Ron says he loved you, and he can't hide his emotions very well. Lavender is smart, and also pretty nosy, so she probably suspects that Ron feels this way. You think she's the type to get jealous?"

"Oh, absolutely. You should hear the way she talks to Parvati some nights. I can't imagine anyone being so bitter all the time."

"Well, maybe she's jealous of you and is poisoning Ron against you. She must have known you two were going to have a private conversation today."

"I can't see how, Harry. I asked him in total privacy."

"And what makes you think Lavender didn't notice and berate Ron about it?" Hermione thought about this, and sadly it made too much sense.

"Do you think Lavender _told_ Ron to say those things to me?" she asked tentatively.

"I wouldn't put it past her," Harry said. Maybe he was being naïve, maybe he was trying to protect his friend, but Harry couldn't believe that Ron could break Hermione's heart like that. It was far easier to make Lavender the villain in this scenario. Hermione was still unsure.

"Well, Harry, it's easy to blame her for all this, but I'm not sure if it's entirely true. Even if it is, though, I really don't want to deal with Ron at the moment."

"I don't blame you in the slightest. I'm not happy with him either." For a while the two of them sat in silence, thinking about all that had happened the past week. So much had changed that they barely recognized themselves. Hermione finally rested her head on Harry's shoulder.

"I feel like I should be crying," she said, "but there aren't any tears left."

"It doesn't have to be all bad, Hermione." Harry wrapped his arm around her, trying to keep it from shaking. That excitement he had felt earlier was now running rampant through his body.

"You know?" Hermione said, "There have been plenty of times this week where I've felt terrible. But right now…something feels right."

"Yeah," Harry said, "I know exactly what you mean." Hermione looked into Harry's brilliant green eyes, and he stared back into her rich brown eyes. Suddenly, they were kissing again, tenderly this time, forgetting all their pain and sorrow. While last week's kisses had been heated, their kiss tonight was soft, comforting, even romantic. Hermione's hand held Harry's head, and Harry ran his hand through her thick locks. Their heartbeats slowed as they held each other close, no longer concerned about their own complicated feelings, no longer worried about anybody else. Their only thoughts were of each other, and of their quickly blossoming emotions for each other.

Neither of them truly knew how right things were.


	6. Confusing Dogwood with Daffodil Seed

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 6: Confusing "Dogwood" with "Daffodil Seed"

Once the kissing stopped, the confusion they had both forgotten crept back into their minds. Hermione was the first to speak up about it.

"What are we, Harry? Suddenly I don't know anymore."

Harry did not know how to answer this question. They were clearly more than friends now, but he wouldn't say they were dating. They'd never been alone at Hogsmeade, never sat alone under a tree by the lake (not that they would now, it was freezing outside), and…well, there wasn't that much of a social life to be had outside of Hogwarts. In any case, the only "dates" Harry had ever been on were with Cho, and those were better called "disasters." Hermione and Krum, though they had certainly had their share of privacy, hadn't really gone on dates. In short, Harry and Hermione were certainly not a couple.

"I'd say we're somewhere in between," Harry said after careful consideration.

"In between what?" Hermione asked. Harry laughed, somehow he'd assumed Hermione had been following his train of thought.

"We're more than friends now, but we're not really dating, so…we're just in between."

"That seems an odd way to put it."

"Does it? I think it's the perfect description. What were you thinking, then?"

Hermione was just as unsure as Harry had been. "Well…I'd say we're certainly more than friends…I don't know, we're like…more intimate than usual friends. God, this is hard."

"Hold on, Hermione, why do we need to label it. Can't we just be us?"

"Harry…I don't know. I like to have all my Is dotted and Ts crossed."

"_If you've dotted your Is and crossed your Ts, you may do whatever you please!_" Harry recited in the most aggravating squeal possible.

"Stop it, Harry!" Hermione said, laughing, "That was a thoughtful gift."

"You're lucky Ron and I didn't chuck them on the spot." Hermione's laughter faded.

"Can we not talk about Ron for a while? The thought of him makes me sick."

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'll drop him." Dropping Ron, as it turned out, was an immensely difficult thing to do. All of their memories together involved the redheaded Weasley in one way or another. The one time they had been without him was when they had traveled back in time to free Sirius Black, when Ron had been recovering from a broken leg.

"So," Harry asked, "what's going to happen here? I mean…where do we go from here?"

"You mean what's the point in being together?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well, I know the reason we came together like this. We both can't have who we really wanted."

"Maybe at first, but I think it's more than that now," Harry said. "Ginny and Ron are sort of in the past now, at least, Ginny is for me now."

"Yeah, I see what you mean," Hermione said. "Well, maybe we should take things a bit slower. You know, actually go out on a date to Hogsmeade."

"Why?" Harry asked. Hermione was a bit surprised.

"To…get to know each other better."

"Hermione, we've known each other for over five years now."

"I mean, not just as friends…as a couple."

"What's the difference?" Harry asked.

"I have no idea. I always thought there was a difference."

"Well, not for me. Cho and I didn't date long, but it was just like having a friend who you kissed once in a while. So I don't think we have to go out on an actual date right off the bat." Hermione was a bit unsure of what Harry was saying.

"Is there something wrong, Harry?" she asked, because Harry was beginning to twitch a bit nervously.

"Well…actually, I think it's best if we kept this to ourselves."

"How come?"

"I'm a celebrity, Hermione. When I went out with Cho, every girl in school berated her with questions about me. She told me it made her feel extremely uncomfortable. And that's nothing compared to how much people will badger _you_. Everyone here would go ballistic if they found out we were dating! Best friends for years, they'd say. She must know every dirty little secret about The Chosen One, The Boy Who Lived—"

"Okay, I get it. You'd rather keep this private."

"And on top of everything else, I really don't want Ron to know. You didn't tell him what happened between us, did you?"

"Of course not. I didn't dare."

"Well, I don't dare now."

"Okay, then…but, it's going to be hard. We won't be able to hang out without arousing suspicion." Hermione was right. Even if they weren't public, someone was bound to notice if they were frequently absent for long periods of time.

"Good point. How will we handle that?" Harry was hoping Hermione could come up with a reasonable solution. The only one Harry could think of was taking Polyjuice Potion and disguising themselves as normal students. However, Polyjuice Potion was a chore to concoct and vomit-inducing when drunk, so he threw out that idea immediately.

"The first thing I can think of," Hermione said, "is Polyjuice—"

"Absolutely not," Harry interrupted.

"You're right, that's more trouble than it's worth…Why not just Confund Ron?"

"No way! I can't do that to him. Cormac was one thing, Ron is quite another." Hermione sighed.

"You're right, Harry, as much as I hate to say it." The two of them began to rack their brains again, but could not think of anything else.

"Now, wait a minute," Hermione said. "It's no secret that Ron and I can't stand each other. It wouldn't look too odd if we just studied together in the Common Room without him, would it?"

"I suppose not, unless we were doing this." Harry gave Hermione a strong kiss on the lips, which she returned after her surprise. He'd meant it as only a brief example, but now he felt drawn to her, so he came in close and wrapped his arms around her. They kissed for five minutes before finally pulling away again.

"We're getting sidetracked," Hermione said. Harry laughed.

"In a good way, though," he said.

"Well, yes, I suppose," Hermione admitted teasingly, making a deliberate understatement.

"The only other thing I can think of is if we snuck down to the Room of Requirement in the middle of the night," Harry said.

"I can't do that all the time," Hermione said, "I need my sleep or my marks will suffer."

"Your marks suffer? That'll be the day."

"Well fine, _you_ need to sleep or _your_ marks will suffer."

"Gee, thanks for that vote of confidence!" Harry chided.

"You're welcome!" Hermione chided back, and the two of them started laughing again.

"Hermione, I'm sure we can find one night a week when we aren't working, even if I have to work my ass off the other six nights." Hermione hesitated.

"All right, but I'd prefer it be a Friday or Saturday so we aren't groggy when we go to class."

"That's fine," Harry said.

"And God forbid we get caught, Harry! Rumors will start _flying_ if that happens."

"We'll be careful, Hermione. We'll use the Cloak. I mean, we snuck a dragon out of the castle when we were eleven!"

"Yeah, we got the dragon out, all right. The return trip wasn't so pleasant."

"Well…we were eleven. We'll be more careful now."

Hermione subsided. "Okay, you've got a deal. Tomorrow night, we'll come here at midnight. Meet me at the Common Room with the Cloak."

"Sounds like a date," Harry said. They allowed themselves one last kiss before they left the Room of Requirement at 9:00, which was when the Slug Club meetings usually ended. Harry checked to make sure nobody saw them leave the room together, and when he saw no one coming up the corridor, the two of them left. The door vanished as soon as it closed.

"Bring the Map with you, too," Hermione said. Harry nodded, and the two of them made the short trip back to the Common Room. Harry decided, to save face, that it would be best to talk to Ron again. He was still in the corner working; it was as if he hadn't moved the entire time they'd been gone.

"How'd it go?" Ron asked Harry when he sat down.

"It was boring," Harry said. "Slughorn kept talking about all the old witches and wizards he used to know."

"Sounds like my Great Aunt Muriel, always talking about all the pure-bloods she rubbed elbows with." Ron pretended to vomit at the mention of his great aunt. "Or, even worse, _Percy_. All his 'connections' with people at the Ministry." Ron pretended to vomit even harder.

"Well, you asked how it went," Harry said. He hoped now Ron would stop griping about being ignored by Professor Slughorn. "How were things up here?"

"Pretty crummy, actually. Ginny stormed in here not long after you left, mumbling about God-knows-what." Harry was now regretful of the attitude he had given her, which was surely the reason she had been in such a foul mood.

"Did she tell you anything?" Harry asked.

"She tells me _nothing_, Harry. Absolutely nothing. Not like I want to know, anyway."

"Oh…well, that's too bad," Harry said, even though it was actually an enormous relief.

"Aside from that," Ron said, "I've been stuck on this Potions essay for at least an hour and a half. You know, I never had this much trouble with my work, not since…" But apparently Ron didn't want to say any more. Harry knew he was going to say "since I stopped talking to Hermione," but decided that the subject was still touchy.

"Well, N.E.W.T. work is really rough. I don't blame you for struggling," Harry said.

"Yeah, I suppose," Ron said, grateful Harry had steered the conversation away from Hermione.

"Maybe I can help you with that," Harry said.

"Oh, right, you're whipping ass in Potions right now, aren't you?" Ron said. "I'm not used to you being so brainy." But Ron flushed when he said that, clearly any mention of intelligence got him thinking about Hermione again.

"Okay, well, let's see…" Harry started proofreading the essay. He was surprised to find nothing wrong with it until the third paragraph.

"Ron, you're confusing 'dogwood' with 'daffodil seed,' I think."

"What the bloody hell's the difference?" Ron asked.

"Ron, one's a flower and the other's a weed."

"I know, I'm just giving you a hard time." Ron looked up the difference between the two in his Potions book.

"Blimey, you're right, Harry. One's used in antidotes and the other's great in poisons. That might be a problem…" As Ron was busy scratching out his mistake, Harry glanced over at Hermione. She gave him a small thumbs-up, saying it was all right for him to be there. Clearly, she thought Harry needed to stay close to Ron or there was sure to be a red flag raised. Harry nodded and turned back to Ron.

"Anything else?" Harry asked. "Let's see…Ron, I don't think 'boomerang skin' is an actual potions ingredient."

"Yeah it is," he said, "it's that stuff we stole from Snape's office when we were making Polyjuice Potion."

"No, Ron, that's 'boomslang' skin."

"Oh, bloody hell. 'Boomerang skin' is close enough."

"No, it's not, Ron."

"God, you remind me of Hermi—" Ron suddenly stopped, embarrassed.

"Ron, is there something going on? I know you told me earlier you didn't want to talk about what you said to Hermione today, but clearly it's really bothering you. What's up?" Ron took a long time in answering. It seemed to Harry that Ron was debating whether or not to tell him what was wrong.

"All right," Ron conceded, "she…told me she had a huge crush on me, and I said it was too late, she'd rejected me too many times…and, well, it was pretty ugly."

"I'm sorry, Ron. So, that's why you're not friends anymore?"

"Harry, that's definitely not the only reason. We've had loads of fights over the years, and I just can't stand being around her anymore."

"Really?" Harry asked, already feeling his temper building. "And how much of that is because of Lavender?"

"What's Lavender got to do with anything?"

"You tell me. You're the one clawing all over her."

"Well, I don't remember _you_ ever having a problem with it. As for Hermione, well, I can tell she's jealous, and it serves her right. Running off with Krum all those times, ruining a hero of mine, well…I guess karma's a bitch, isn't it?" It took all of Harry's restraint to keep from slapping Ron in the back of the head. He'd never heard his friend sound more insensitive.

"So you're going to throw away one of your best friends, all because some cute girl can actually stand snogging you every chance she gets?"

"It's not just Lavender, Harry, and if you're going to be that crude about it, I'd prefer you leave Lavender out of this conversation, thank you very much." Hermione was watching them from afar, and while she couldn't hear them, she definitely did not like the way they were staring daggers at each other. She had a bad feeling that she knew what they were talking about, and suddenly felt the strong urge to intervene. She walked over to them, and they instantly stopped looking at each other.

"Hello, Hermione," Harry said, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. "What's up?"

"Nothing, it just looked like Ron could use some extra help on his homework." Ron muttered angrily, but neither Harry nor Hermione could hear him.

"It's fine," Ron said, "Harry helped me with most of it. I think I'll finish in my room before tucking in. G'night." Ron quickly gathered his things and went upstairs, fuming at Hermione and now Harry, too.

"Harry, what just happened?" Hermione asked, agitated.

"He told me what he said to you today, and we got into a fight about Lavender."

"Harry, for God's sake, I thought you were here to stay on Ron's good side!"

"I was, but…you should have heard him, Hermione, he was acting like a real prat."

"I don't care! You've _always_ stood by him, Harry, _always_! How's it going to look if you suddenly start taking my side on things. Ron might be thick, but he's not stupid. He'll start to wonder what's going on!"

"Hermione, look, if you're really that worried about it, I'll apologize to him tomorrow."

"That would be great, Harry, thanks."

"You're welcome. Hey, any chance I could get some help on some homework?"

"Well, you did talk to Ginny today, so I guess I owe you…" Harry and Hermione sat down while Hermione started helping him master a spell they had learned in Charms, one that concerned making a teacup boil and freeze water on cue.


	7. If I Had a Time Turner

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 7: If I Had a Time-Turner

"I'm sorry about what I said yesterday," Harry said to Ron the next morning. "I was out of line."

"Don't worry about it, mate," Ron told him. "It's nothing."

Harry, reluctantly, had to agree. As angry as he was with Ron, it was none of his business how he treated Hermione, even if he had a suspicion that Lavender was behind it.

"So," Ron asked, "how are the meetings with Dumbledore?"

"Good," Harry said, "he keeps showing me random things, but I'm sure he's going somewhere with it all."

"Nothing new?"

"No. He hasn't been around Hogwarts that much, actually."

"Right, I keep forgetting. It's easy to pass over him in the Great Hall. Almost like he's part of the furniture, but in a good way." Harry was pretty sure what Ron meant. Professor Dumbledore was such a huge part of Hogwarts that his presence was almost taken for granted, so it was weird to think of him not being there.

Harry's Saturday was punctuated by a building anticipation for midnight, when he would be sneaking to the Room of Requirement with Hermione. He wouldn't have dreamed of it two weeks ago, but now Hermione was in his dreams quite frequently, and they had started to become more graphic.

He knew, of course, that he had to catch up on his work so the grogginess he expected for Sunday did not show in his schoolwork. Thankfully, Hermione was able to help him, and the day was one of his most productive Saturdays he'd ever had as a student at Hogwarts. He was able to master three spells, write three strong essays, and even get a jump start on some research for Defense against the Dark Arts.

Harry couldn't help notice that Ron was not faring nearly as well. Lavender tried to help him, but without Hermione watching over his shoulder, he worked at a much more sluggish pace than usual, and this frustrated him immensely. He had a chance to talk to Harry about it at lunch.

"I know what I said to Hermione," he said in a hush, hoping not to divert her attention, "and I wouldn't take them back, either. But I didn't know how much I relied on her to get by in school. I'm buried in homework, now, and I don't know how I'm going to get it done. You don't think she kept one of those Time-Turners, do you?"

"Of course not, Ron."

"But she seems to be helping you plenty," Ron added bitterly.

"Well, we're still friends, you know."

"I know," Ron said, "and I'm sure I'll get by," even though he wasn't sure at all.

"You will," Harry added, though he was equally wary.

The rest of the day went without a hitch, and when Harry and Hermione said goodnight that evening, they almost couldn't help but wink at each other.

Harry could hardly sleep, even though a few hours now would pay dividends later on. He had no idea what was really going to happen later that night, but somehow that made it all the more exciting. The only thing that could rival his anticipation was a Quidditch match, and that was a different kind of anticipation, one that made him a nervous wreck. This made him feel giddy, almost like Dudley at a candy store. Harry finally got to sleep at 11:00, only to be awoken by his alarm at 11:45. He felt like he had slept all of five minutes.

Making sure the others hadn't heard his watch go off, Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map out from under his bed, cast _Muffliato_ on the other four-posters, and walked out of the room beneath the Cloak. He stopped in the stairway and cast _Lumos_ so he could see the map. Fortunately, the only figure he could see in the Common Room was that of Hermione's. Harry could have sworn the dot marking her looked agitated.

Harry went down the stairs far too quickly, nearly tripping himself over the hem of the Cloak. He saw Hermione sitting on the couch, her leg moving up and down, checking her watch. Harry caught her attention with a hiss, and Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin. Harry poked his head out of the Cloak and beckoned Hermione over. She quickly joined him beneath the Cloak.

"Come on," Harry said, "there's nobody in the corridors." They moved carefully towards the back of the Fat Lady's portrait when Hermione suddenly stopped and grabbed Harry's arm.

"Harry," she hushed, "the Fat Lady will want to know what's causing her portrait to open, especially at this late an hour!"

"Shit!" Harry swore. "Why didn't you think of that earlier?"

"I don't know, I was too excited! What about you?"

"Hermione, you're the smart one here. You would have thought of it hours before I would have."

"Well, that does us no good now. Got any bright ideas?"

Harry's brain worked best under pressure, so he could already feel his gears working.

"This will sound crazy," Harry said, "but what about my four-poster? We can easily draw the curtains. _Muffliato_ will keep us from waking the others."

"Harry, I can't believe I'm agreeing to this, but all right. Give me the Cloak, you aren't going to need it." Harry stepped out from beneath the Cloak and led an invisible Hermione back up the steps to his room. He stopped her near the door with a wave of his hand, went inside, and cast _Muffliato_ on the other four beds so that the others wouldn't be awakened. He returned to the staircase and beckoned Hermione in. She did not remove the Cloak until they were both in Harry's bed and the curtains had been drawn.

"Well," Harry said, "this is almost like that dream I had the other night."

"Keep dreaming," Hermione said with a coy smile. The two lay next to each other and started kissing, arms wrapped around each other, hearts pounding and minds numb. It was such a relief not to worry about the world outside that four-poster bed."Harry," Hermione suddenly said, "you don't think we're moving too fast, do you?"

"Why, do you?" Harry asked.

"Honestly, this is fine. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable."

"Five years, Hermione," Harry said, "but clearly you aren't really fine with it." Harry sat up, not annoyed or offended, just sensitive to Hermione's doubts.

"I don't mean to intrude," Harry said, "but what exactly went on between you and Krum?" Hermione smiled with embarrassment, but decided that she would be open with her friend.

"Honestly, Harry, it's quite similar to this. But that was harmless fun, really. I feel like we're laying our friendship on the line."

"Why do you think that?" Harry asked. Hermione was now annoyed; she had expected Harry to understand better than anyone.

"If…whatever this is…goes awry, how could we possibly be friends again? You saw what happened with Ron and I, and we didn't even go out."

"Well, I'm not Ron," Harry said. "I'm not going to give you up like he did. What I felt for Ginny, that's already in the past for me. You're my present, Hermione, and my future."

"God, that's so corny," Hermione said, and the two of them laughed heartily. Corny as it was, Hermione knew that Harry spoke true. Grateful for this promise, Hermione leaned closer and started to kiss Harry again. Now she allowed herself to be swept away, as if she were riding behind him on the Firebolt. Abandoning all fear, pretense, and speculation, the two of them could only think of each other. Time passed with little regard, and they had little regard for it in turn. The two rolled across the bed, and though they had no intention of doing anything other than kissing, a curiosity lingered about when one of them would take the next step. That curiosity was, for now, buried beneath the euphoria they both felt now.

Suddenly came a heart-stopping moment. Harry held Hermione back when he heard a rustle, and he suddenly noticed that he could no longer hear Ron snoring. Then, the voice that made their hearts jumped: "Harry?"

It was Ron Weasley, taking lethargic steps towards the four-poster. Hermione took action first, fumbling for the Invisibility Cloak that was now bunched up in the corner of the bed. She took it and hastily covered herself, rolling up in a ball to make sure nothing was visible. As soon as she was covered, Harry pulled the curtain to talk to Ron.

"What's going on, Ron?" Harry asked, pretending to have been awoken by Ron's mumbling.

"Nothing, mate. I woke up and thought I saw some weird shadows near your bed. Then I remembered Sirius, and I was afraid a Death Eater had come to attack you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Well, I'm fine, Ron, as you can tell." Harry didn't have to pretend to sound irritated. He had, after all, been obtrusively interrupted.

"Okay," Ron said, "I just wanted to make sure."

"Ron, don't you think a Death Eater would have tripped some kind of alarm before he got all the way up here?" Harry asked. Hermione wanted to kill him. She was holding her breath, hoping not to give herself away.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Ron said. "Well, like I said, just making sure."

"Okay," Harry said, "thanks. I know you were trying to help. Just don't do it again unless I'm screaming bloody murder, all right?"

"Okay," Ron said with a smile. He loped back over to his bed and was out almost instantly. Harry closed the curtain and Hermione drew the Cloak and a breath of relief.

"For God's sake," she hushed, "what is _wrong_ with that boy?"

"He just wanted to make sure I was all right," Harry said.

"Well, in my hands, I'd certainly hope so," Hermione replied. "What time is it?" Harry looked at his watch and his heart sunk.

"Two in the morning."

"We have another hour. Let's not waste it." And soon, Hermione brought Harry back to that state of bliss he had enjoyed the previous two hours.

The two of them lost track of time, and by the time Hermione checked her watch again, it was 3:35.

"Whoops," she said. "I should have been out of here a while ago."

"I don't want you to leave," Harry said.

"Believe me, I would give anything to stay. If I had a Time-Turner I would do this all again."

"Same here, but it'll have to wait till next Saturday."

"Okay. Say, Harry, I know the Room of Requirement is less risky, but why don't I just meet you here again?"

"Um…I guess so. Why?"

"Well, to be honest," Hermione said, "I love messing around with you right under Ron's nose. It feels like…vengeance."

"If you insist," Harry said.

"Why don't I just keep the Cloak then, and I'll be up here at midnight on Saturday?"

"Sure. I'll have the room _Muffliato_'d by the time you get up here. Just don't be early."

"That's going to be hard, but all right. I'll be prompt."

"Okay, then," Harry said. "See you tomorrow morning."

"See you," Hermione said with a twinkle in her eye. She put on the Cloak and Harry drew the curtain so she could leave, then shut it again.

As Harry laid down to go to sleep, he couldn't help but wonder if it had all been a dream and he was about to wake up. It had been no dream; Hermione had just been the one person who had made him more happy in his entire life than anybody else had. Only Hagrid's arrival at the shack in the sea so many years ago could rival tonight.

Harry slept beautifully that night, eagerly awaiting the next time he would see Hermione Granger.


	8. Defeating Voldemort is a Cakewalk

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 8: Defeating Voldemort is a Cakewalk

Ron was usually the last person in his room to wake up Sunday morning, so he was surprised to find the curtains on Harry's four-poster still drawn. Remembering the repercussions of last night's intrusion, Ron decided not to wake him up again. Instead, he went down to the Common Room, where he found Lavender waiting for him. She looked particularly upset about something.

"Lavender," he asked tentatively, "what's wrong?" He was surprised when Lavender didn't lash out at him, so he knew he hadn't done anything wrong.

"I woke up at about one last night," Lavender said, "and Hermione wasn't in her bed."

"How do you know that?" Ron asked.

"Please. You can hear that girl snore from a mile away." Ron was surprised to hear this. Then again, he had never heard Hermione sleep before.

"Where was she, Ron?" Lavender asked. Ron cringed.

"How am I supposed to know?" he demanded.

"Well, I don't know, after she said she loved you it was only a matter of time before—" Lavender stopped, and Ron could already see she was about to cry. He panicked and hesitated, which only confirmed Lavender's suspicions so she started sobbing.

"Now, wait a minute, Lavender! I swear to you I have no idea where she was. Probably just catching up on work in the Common Room. You know she has boatloads…. Lavender, I swear to you, I have no idea."

"Really? Are you sure? Would you say the same if I gave you Veritaserum? Oh, Ron, I hope so, because I don't know what I'd do without you!" Ron finally had the sense to comfort his girlfriend, so he sat next to her on the couch and gave her a hug. He tried to appear calm, but he was terrified at the reaction he was getting from Lavender. If she felt this strongly about him, then he had a serious problem.

"Lavender, I promise, I did not see Hermione last night. She's not that kind of girl."

"Oh, Ron, I know, I just got so s-s-scared thinking about you and her…I could b-barely go back to sleep…I don't want to lose you!"

"You won't, you won't lose me," Ron said, imagining himself holding a shovel, digging a hole that was already fifty feet deep.

"Are you hungry?" Ron asked, desperately trying to change the subject, "Do you want some breakfast?"

"No, I'm not hungry," Lavender said, her voice calmer, "but if you want to eat now, I'll go with you."

"Great, 'cause I'm _starving_." Lavender giggled softly, and the two of them left the Common Room to make the trip down to the Great Hall."

…

About thirty minutes later, Harry awoke to find himself alone in the room. His watch read 9:30, so he hadn't lost too much sleep. Memories of the night before still brought a smile to his face, but he knew he had to be careful. If anyone suspected what he and Hermione had been up to the night before, it was sure to stir up a particularly vile potion of trouble.

He checked the Marauder's Map to see where Hermione was, and he saw her descending the steps to the Common Room. Harry dressed himself in record time and hastened down the stairs to meet her. Thankfully, she was waiting for him when he reached the Common Room. The two of them were alone, as everyone else had already awoken.

"The whole House is deserted," Harry said, "I just checked five minutes ago."

"Well then," Hermione said, "I suppose we can afford this," Hermione gave him a soft kiss, which he welcomed gratefully.

"Harry," Hermione said, "I feel so…_naughty_ after last night, but in a good kind of way."

"Me too, it was fantastic. I haven't slept better in weeks."

"Neither have I."

"Any problems sneaking back up?"

"Not that I could tell. Everyone seemed to be asleep."

"I still can't believe Ron," Harry said. "I tried to shoo him off as fast as I could without appearing suspect."

"You were fine. I was ready to gasp for air before you finally got rid of him."

"You held your breath for that long?" Harry asked, dumbfounded.

"Before I came to school, I was at camp every summer, and I always held my breath the longest underwater. I've got the medals to prove it."

"That's amazing," Harry said, "Who knew that talent would come to good use here?"

"You're right. Though, it's funny, ever since you used gillyweed two years ago, I've always thought about sneaking it back to that old camp and scaring the kids."

"Really?"

"I'd never _dream_ of actually doing it. It's just always been something I've pondered since then."

"All right. Care to go down for breakfast?"

"Of course." The two of them left for the Great Hall after one more fleeting kiss, both of them silently anticipating the next Saturday night.

…

The next week was fairly normal for Harry and Hermione, though without Ron around, things felt a little off. Neither of them would admit it, but somehow they felt incomplete without the redheaded Weasley accompanying them. Studying was far more productive but far less entertaining without Ron's wise cracks to lighten the mood. They enjoyed their new-found isolation, of course, but they still missed Ron's strange charm.

For Ron, studying was now absolute torture, and he missed Harry and Hermione sorely. Of course, he could never say that to Lavender, or he risked incurring another meltdown. Ron was still in disbelief about the way he had talked to Hermione, and though Lavender had been delighted with him after he had talked to her, Ron couldn't help but wonder where all those emotions had come from. It had been like somebody foreign had invaded his mind for a brief time and made him say words that didn't belong to him. He didn't want to tell Lavender that, either, so he felt stuck until he caught Harry by himself Wednesday afternoon.

"Harry, thank God, I've been dying to talk to you." Harry was grateful to talk to his friend, though he didn't want to appear too needy. He was still annoyed with Ron for what he had said to Hermione.

"Anything, Ron, what's going on?"

"Harry, you have no idea. My work is killing me, literally. I can feel my life slip away with each stroke of the quill."

"Well," Harry said, "I don't mean to be harsh, Ron, but you brought that on yourself. You told Hermione—"

"You don't have to remind me. Actually, I wanted to talk about that, too. I still can't believe what I said to Hermione. It's like someone else was talking for me."

"So you didn't mean any of it and _now_ you want to apologize?" Harry asked.

"No! I mean, I didn't mean _all_ of it, but some of it was…true." Harry became irritated with Ron for what seemed like the thousandth time in the past few weeks.

"What parts of it were true, Ron?"

"Harry, I need to talk to Hermione, but I know she wants nothing to do with me so…I mean, you're really my only shot…I need your help." Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It seemed like Ron was being genuine, and he did want to help his friend, but at the same time, Harry wasn't sure if Ron had learned his lesson.

"I'll help you," Harry decided, "but you have to promise me that you'll treat Hermione better from now on. That's _if_ she decides to give you another chance, which I doubt she will no matter what you do."

"That's fine, I wouldn't dream of hurting her like that again."

"Are you sure?"

"Please, Harry, I'm desperate. I'm about to fail three classes here!"

"Okay, I'm just giving you a hard time," Harry said, and the two of them smiled. "So, what do you need me to do?"

"I need you to distract Lavender so I can talk to her." Harry stared at Ron, dumbfounded. Ron's heart sank.

"How do you expect me to do that?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, improvise! You're good at that," Ron suggested feebly.

"Ron, you know I want to help you," Harry said, "but I'm no miracle worker. Defeating Voldemort is a cakewalk compared to prying Lavender away from you."

"Well, can you try? Hermione trusts you more than anyone else."

Harry had to admit, that part was true.

"I'll try," Harry said, "but there are no guarantees. Like you said, I'll improvise." Harry had a theory about Lavender, and he was figuring out the perfect way to test it.

"Harry, I love you. You're a lifesaver. Thanks!" Ron hugged his friend, and Harry smiled.

"Don't thank me just yet," Harry said. "Let's see how this goes first."

…

Ron planned to talk to Hermione in the Common Room that night. The plan was that Harry would go over and ask Lavender for a private word, then take her out of the Common Room. Ron would then be free, at least temporarily, to make his plea to Hermione. Harry, in the meantime, would stall Lavender as long as he could.

That night, the Common Room was unusually crowded, but that made it easier for Harry to slip out with Lavender unnoticed. Harry went over to Ron and Lavender, certain that this would never possibly work.

"Um…Lavender? Can I have a word with you, um…outside?" Lavender was confused; before now, Harry had barely spoken a word to her.

"What is this about, Harry?" she asked.

"Well, gee…" Harry stuttered, "I'd rather not say in front of so many people. Let's go outside the Common Room." Harry shifted his gaze warily at Ron, who did his best to look surprised.

"Well…fine. Come on, Ron," Lavender said.

"No!" Harry said, grabbing Lavender's arm. "I need to talk to you _alone_…"

"Harry," Ron said, "I'm your best friend, and Lavender is probably just going to tell me later."

_What are you doing?_ Harry wanted to scream. Then again, it would look strange if Ron tried to shoo Lavender away.

"Lavender, please," Harry said, "it'll only take a few minutes. I just need a private word."

Lavender was still quite wary, but she realized that Harry wouldn't take no for an answer.

"All right, then," she said, following Harry reluctantly out of the Fat Lady's portrait.

Harry brought Lavender to a deserted corridor and turned, in disbelief of what he was about to say.

"Lavender, I…I can't stop thinking about you, lately. I mean, you're such a wonderful person, and you have the most beautiful blonde hair, and the prettiest eyes…God, I don't know what I'm saying." He really didn't. "Lavender…I think I'm falling in love with you."

Lavender looked ready to scream, so Harry needed to cool her off.

"I'm sorry, I know it's weird. That's why I needed to talk to you alone. I know it's crazy, Lavender, but I've just noticed it ever since dinner and I wanted to just take a wild chance, you know? Life's too short, right?" Lavender froze for a minute, pondering what Harry had just said.

"Are you feeling all right, Harry?" she asked.

"Now that I'm alone with you, I've never been better." Harry cringed, he had milked that just a little too much.

"God," Lavender said, "this is so unexpected. I mean, you've barely said anything to me before."

"I know, isn't it crazy? But, I mean…I see you with Ron, and you two look so happy, and…I don't know…I'm really jealous."

"_You're_ jealous of _Ron_?" she asked, in a tone of voice that irked Harry to no end.

"Weird, right? All those times he's been envious of me. Not this time, though. He's so lucky to have you. I know you must think I'm a nutcase, coming on to you like this…It's just, well, I tried some of Ron's pumpkin juice at dinner, and shortly after that…I couldn't help but notice how pretty you are…"

Harry now stared avidly at Lavender, looking for some kind of horrible realization. His theory had been that Lavender had been spiking Ron's drinks with Love Potion. It was the only thing that could explain how badly Ron had been treating Hermione. If Lavender was frightened, however, she did a good job of hiding it.

"Harry," she said, "I don't think you're feeling very well. I think maybe I should take you to the Hospital Wing."

Harry was dumbfounded. He couldn't have dreamed of a better way to keep Lavender out of the Common Room. Just as he was ready to accept this proposal, however, he saw Ron storm out of the Common Room, fuming. Lavender ran off instantly to console him, leaving Harry to find out what had happened from Hermione.


	9. A Longer Shelf Life Than Normal

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 9: A Longer Shelf Life Than Normal

Harry walked into the Common Room, and everyone inside was standing against the walls, looking at him. He smiled nervously and said hello, and everyone else waved back at him.

"Umm…" Harry said, "do you know where—?" Everyone pointed to the girl's dormitory staircase.

"Damn," Harry muttered to himself. "Well, um…could someone go get her?" The other students began to murmur, except for one.

"I'll get her," Parvati said, and without another word she strode up the staircase. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, but then was annoyed with the other students still staring at him.

"Not to be rude," he said, "but don't you all have better things to do?" The students quickly occupied themselves with homework, Gobstones, and whatever else they were doing before. A short time later, Parvati came back down with an irate Hermione. When she saw Harry, she dragged him back out of the Common Room.

"Thank God," she said, giving him a hug, "I need someone to vent at."

"Great…" Harry said, fearing an onslaught of passionate anger only Hermione could summon.

"He's such an ass," she said, already warming up.

"Hermione, you might want to start from the beginning," Harry said. Forcing her to collect her thoughts seemed to cool off her anger. When she had her story settled, she told Harry what had happened in the past five minutes. This is what she said.

…

_So I'm sitting in the Common Room, doing my homework, minding my own business, when Ron walks over and says he needs to talk to me. I tried to ignore him, but he kept pestering me, so I put my homework off to the side and told him to make it quick._

"_Hermione," he said, "I know I acted like an ass the other day and said I didn't want to be your friend, but I'm desperate."_

"_Desperate?" I asked him, "desperate for what?"_

"_It's just…I'm struggling badly with my homework, and I never realized before how much I needed your help."_

"_Great, so now I have to be your tutor? After everything you said to me, now you want my help? Well, you can forget it. I'm not going to let you treat me like garbage anymore."_

_Then the little prat started to whimper, as if that would make me change my mind._

"_Please," he said, "if you don't help me I'm going to flunk out."_

"_That'll have to be your natural consequence," I told him, "Maybe you'll learn to treat your friends like human beings."_

"_Damn it, Hermione, I'm trying to make amends here."_

"_No you're not! You're just trying to use me again! Is that how it's always been? Have you always just pretended to be my friend so you could get by in school?"_

_By this point we were attracting a lot of stares from the other students, but neither of us cared._

"_It's not like that at all. Don't try to make me out as the bad guy. You're just as guilty as I am."_

"_Right, because I actually had the nerve to stand up for myself whenever you've acted like a git! I've helped you for years, Ron, and I've gotten nothing in return. You tell me who's the bad guy here."_

"_God, you're a piece of work. I've helped you loads of times before."_

"_No you haven't! You were always the one who put me down! The Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare—"_

"_What, spew? That was a dumb idea and you knew it."_

"_See? That's how it's always been with you! Putting me down, insulting me, making wiseass remarks, and I'm supposed to tolerate that? No, that's why we aren't friends anymore, Ron. That's why there's no WAY I'm helping you with your work."_

"_Give it a rest, Hermione. You're just jealous I'm locking lips with Lavender instead of you!" We now had an audience, and they started to mutter at that comment._

"_Get over yourself! This isn't about her at all!"_

"_Yes it is, Hermione. And trust me, if you act like this with every guy you like, you're never going to get laid."_

_That was the last straw. I drew back my arm and smacked Ron as hard as I could, then stormed up to my room without looking back. I think the Common Room was dead silent for a good two minutes after I left._

…

"Hermione," Harry said, "I'm so sorry."

"Forget it, it's over now. Can we go to the library to study? I don't want to go back in there and see him."

"Absolutely. I'll get our things." Harry walked back into the Common Room, still in disbelief about the story Hermione had told him. If it were true, Ron and Hermione would never speak to each other again.

…

Lavender finally stopped Ron in the corridor and pleaded for him to tell her what happened.

"Do you really want to know?" Ron asked.

"Yes, I do! Who could have possibly made you this upset?"

"Her," Ron said scathingly, and Lavender's temple began to bulge.

"God, that girl gets on my nerves. What happened this time?"

"All right, I'll tell you what happened. You might want to sit down for this." Lavender conjured up two chairs, and the two sat on opposite sides of the corridor. Once they were situated, Ron told Lavender the following story.

…

_So, you know how much I've been struggling with my work lately, right? Well, I know you won't be happy with this, but I had to ask Hermione for help or I stood a good chance of flunking out of Hogwarts. So I go over to her and try to ask her delicately for a word, because I know she's still raving mad with me._

"_Hermione?" I asked, "Can I talk to you for a second?"_

_She pretended not to hear me, so I had to pester her a bit before she'd put her work aside and listened. She huffed and finally set her work aside, then gives me the nastiest look and says, "Make it snappy."_

_I'm already annoyed, but I took a deep breath and said, "Hermione, first of all I want to apologize for the way I've been acting lately. You're a wonderful person and you don't deserve someone like me treating you like garbage."_

"_What do you want, Ron?" she says back, real snippy, like my mum when she's upset with me._

"_Look, I'm doing really badly in school right now, and you're the best student in our class and I really need your help or I'm going to flunk out."_

"_Absolutely not," she says, without offering a bit of explanation._

"_Hermione, please, I'm desperate."_

"_Really? You're desperate? You weren't desperate when you told me I was a poison to you."_

"_Hermione, I know I acted like a complete ass and I want to make it up to you. You're the only chance I've got of passing this year."_

"_Ron, for all I care, you can drop out and go home. The school would be much better off without you."_

_I was flabbergasted. How could Hermione say such a cruel thing? I was stumbling, not sure what I was going to say. What's worse was the students around us were starting to watch us._

"_Hermione, if this is about Lavender, than maybe the three of us—"_

"_This isn't about Lavender, you prick! It's about the way you've treated me for years! Always putting me down, making rude comments, treating me like an idiot!"_

"_Like when?" I asked, feeling my temper rising._

"_Don't you remember, the Society for the Prevention," or whatever she called it. She was talking about spew._

"_Hermione, that was a lost cause and you know it."_

"_That's how it's always been with you. And you just expect me to put that all aside so you can use me to pass your classes for you. I'm not doing it."_

_That's when I started to break down. I had to hold back some tears. I couldn't believe one of my best friends could betray me, all because of some petty jealousy._

"_Oh, grow up, you big baby," she said, "It's about time you helped yourself."_

_The entire Common Room was watching us now, and they shook their heads at what Hermione was saying._

"_Give him a break, Hermione," Seamus said, to my surprise, "can't you see he's sorry?" The crowd started nodding in agreement. I was deeply moved._

"_Come on," she said, "don't let him fool you into feeling sorry for him. He's been treating me like garbage for years."_

_That's when, regrettably, I snapped._

"_God, Hermione, when did you become such a bitch?" As soon as I said it, I instantly regretted it. But before I got a chance to apologize, Hermione slapped me as hard as she could. It still stings, even as I'm talking to you._

_Well, there was no use sticking around after that. I stormed out of the Common Room to retain some sense of dignity._

…

"What an awful thing to do," Lavender said. "Ron, I'm so sorry. You don't deserve to be treated like that."

"Well, Lavender, what can I say? I deserve it, the way I've been treating her."

"No, you don't, Ron. You're one of the kindest people I know." Lavender got up and gave Ron a hug. Ron almost started crying again, but he kept it together.

"I'll help you," Lavender said, "and believe me, you won't need Hermione to pass your classes." Suddenly, around the corner came the wheezing Argus Filch, accompanied by his cat Mrs. Norris. His nose crinkled at the sight of them.

"What the 'ell are you doing in my corridor?" he asked. "Get rid of these chairs and go back to your Common Room." Lavender made the chairs vanish, and the two of them wasted no time returning to the Common Room, where Lavender tried to help Ron tackle his massive pile of work.

…

Had Harry and Lavender chosen to compare notes, they would have realized how remotely different these two accounts were. Hermione made it look like she was defending herself from an onslaught from Ron. Ron, however, had painted Hermione as a cold, heartless person. One important fact was consistent in both of their stories, though: Hermione really did slap Ron in the face.

As it was, though, Lavender was feeling quite confused about what Harry had told her. She certainly didn't believe Harry was in love with her; the idea was simply too bizarre to take seriously. She did wonder, though, what Harry had been implying when he mentioned Ron's pumpkin juice. Lavender quickly deduced the only explanation for it: Harry suspected Lavender of spiking Ron's drinks with Amortentia.

Lavender didn't blame Harry for thinking so, even though it was not true at all. There was no other way to explain Ron's rejection of Hermione. She was, however, insulted that Harry could think her capable of such treachery. She loved Ron dearly, but she wasn't _that_ obsessed with him.

Harry left Lavender alone after that night, and, unusually, stopped talking to Ron as well. This was most unexpected, as Harry was usually always by Ron's side when he was going through a tough time. Lavender noticed this change more than anyone, but the other Gryffindor students found it odd as well.

That's when the rumors started. Students were starting to ask each other questions about the two close friends. Why wasn't Harry on Ron's side? Why has he been studying with Hermione all this time? He _has_ spent a lot of time with her, hasn't he? What's up with that?

Romilda Vane, fearing the worst, complained to her friends that The Chosen One was simply paying attention to nobody else but Hermione. Harry overheard this on Friday, and he addressed this to Hermione as soon as he could.

"Harry, Romilda is smitten with you. She's lost her head and is overreacting."

"Yeah, but I'm starting to hear other people asking questions. What if somebody finds out about us?"

"Harry, please. They'll find something else to talk about by tomorrow night."

Harry was not sure. Rumors about him seemed to have a longer shelf life than normal, especially those about Harry's potential love interests. That's when he remembered something from two years ago.

"Hermione, don't you remember when the rumors of that love triangle were being past around two years ago?"

"Yes, I do."

"Rita Skeeter published _articles_ about those. Entire news articles! What makes you think this will be any different?"

"Harry, don't start panicking. If something like that fiasco ever happens again, we'll deal with it when it does. Just…relax. And don't forget about tomorrow night, either. I might just have a surprise for you."

That calmed Harry's nerves, and he returned to studying with Hermione in peace. Neither of them knew the ugly turn these rumors would soon take.


	10. Find the Golden Snitch

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 10: Find the Golden Snitch

When Harry went to bed that night, he was feeling a bit uneasy. He was heartbroken at the fallout between his two best friends, and the scrutiny of his classmates only rubbed salt in the wounds. It took a while for him to fall asleep, and he started to dream.

He was in his bed, alone except for Hermione lying next to him. They were both wearing clothes, but Hermione reached over and started to undress Harry.

"I," she said while unbuttoning his shirt, "have a job for you, Harry. I think you'll enjoy it."

"What is it?" Harry asked, helping Hermione pull his arms free from his shirt sleeves.

"Well, since you're _such_ a brilliant Seeker, I want you to find the Golden Snitch."

"Where is it?" Harry asked as Hermione unbuckled his belt.

"Somewhere in my possession," she said with an alluring smile. Harry's pants were removed.

"Perhaps you've swallowed it," Harry suggested, and he sent his tongue into Hermione's mouth to try to find it. He found no Snitch, but he was healthily distracted from his search.

"Harry," Hermione said, breaking away, "Slytherin's already scored two goals."

"Better stay focused then," Harry said. He pulled up on Hermione's shirt, and she lifted her arms so Harry could pull the shirt off over her head. He then unhooked her brassiere and she removed it.

"And Potter deftly handles the two Bludgers," she said with a laugh.

"I don't need the commentary," Harry said, smiling.

"I think you might. Malfoy's got a lead on the Snitch. You have to beat him to it or you'll lose the House Cup."

"I hope Malfoy doesn't _really_ have a lead!" Harry said.

"God, no," Hermione said, "it's just a metaphor."

As far as Harry could tell, there was only one more place to look. He pulled off the rest of Hermione's clothing, and found a miniature Golden Snitch resting between her legs.

"Potter's gaze averts. He seems to have found the Snitch at last."

"Great," Harry said, "Now what?"

"Well," Hermione said, "the wood of your broomstick is hard and polished. It's high past time for you to go after it." Harry smiled and obliged, pressing into Hermione with surprising force. She started to moan pleasurably, and the two of them completely forgot about the Quidditch metaphor and just about everything else.

"Harry," she said softly. She looked her lover in the eyes, but there was something wrong with his. The pupils were narrowing into slits, and his eyeballs around the irises were turning bright green.

"Harry?" she said, suddenly scared. Harry slowed himself, wondering why she was frightened. Then he felt a surge of black energy course through his veins and a high-pitched voice screaming in his ear.

"_KILL HER!_" the voice yelled. Harry suddenly felt his body constrict and lengthen, felt his blood grow cold, felt his tongue elongate and become forked, felt his nose shrink, felt his teeth grow and sharpen. Suddenly, Harry lunged at Hermione's neck, striking with his fangs. Blood began to drip down her arm from the wound, and she started to scream. Harry lunged again and again, penetrating her flesh, poisoning her with his venom. She passed out, blood flowing down her naked body.

"HERMIONE!" Harry yelled as he awoke, gasping for air, cold sweat dripping down his neck.

Ron was the first to reach his side. Neville, Dean, and Seamus soon joined him.

"Bloody hell, Harry, are you all right?" Ron asked.

"Ron, God, I just attacked Hermione! Just like last year with your dad! She was bleeding and—" Harry suddenly stopped, horrified at what he was saying. He felt ready to vomit and his hands were shaking terribly.

"Harry, relax," Ron said, "it was only a bad dream. It's not like last time. You couldn't have possibly attacked Hermione."

"Are you sure? Her dorm's not that far from here."

"Harry," Neville said, "you've been asleep the whole time. I was busy reading when I saw you start to tremble in your sleep." Harry was suddenly embarrassed with himself. He thought the nightmares from last year had come to an end. All of a sudden, he was recovering from the worst one since he attacked Arthur Weasley last year.

"Harry, do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?" Ron asked, "You look awfully clammy."

"I'm fine, Ron," Harry said, "You're right. It was just a bad dream. I'm sorry everyone. You can all go back to sleep."

"Harry," Seamus said, "if you need to go—"

"I'm _fine_, Seamus," Harry said, a bit too forcefully. The others went back to bed, Ron being the last to leave Harry's side. Harry drew his curtains and lay awake, afraid to fall back asleep.

After all, none of them had heard the voice of Lord Voldemort screaming in their head.

…

Harry wasted no time talking to Hermione the next morning.

"Good morning, Harry," she said on their way down to breakfast, "Looking forward to tonight?"

"Not in the slightest," Harry said, which greatly offended Hermione. "No, please, let me explain. I had an awful nightmare."

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

"Do you remember when I was inside the body of Voldemort's snake and I attacked Ron's dad?"

"Yeah. Hard to believe that was a year ago. It felt like yesterday."

"It felt like my nightmare last night, only this time I was attacking you." Hermione stopped walking and took a deep breath.

"Yeah, but Harry, it was just a bad dream. See? I'm here, not a puncture wound on me."

"It's not just that, Hermione," Harry said, "Voldemort told me to do it."

"V-Voldemort?" Hermione asked, starting to tremble. "Doesn't that mean—?"

"I think Voldemort's trying to penetrate my mind again," Harry said, "using Legilimency."

"Harry," Hermione said more firmly, taking charge of the situation, "you need to go see Professor Dumbledore today and ask him for help. You've got to master Occlumency, or this will keep happening."

"Hermione," Harry said, "he just got back to Hogwarts on Thursday, and he was exhausted. I don't want to trouble him with this."

"That's rubbish, Harry. You have to see him. I'll go with you to his office, right after breakfast." Harry couldn't refuse any longer.

"Fine," Harry said.

…

Once they ate, Harry and Hermione hurried to the stone gargoyle guarding the spiraling stairs leading to the headmaster's office, only to find it refused to offer entry even with the proper password. That's because they had beaten Dumbledore, who hobbled down the corridor and was surprised to see them.

"Well," he said, "I'm not back two days, and students are already trying to knock down my door."

"We're not knocking down—"

"Please, Harry. I was merely jesting, but I see now that you are in no mood for such frivolities as humor."

"Professor," Hermione said, "we're sorry to intrude, but it's urgent. Harry—"

"Pardon my interruption, Miss Granger, but I must correct you. You and Harry are not intruding, and your sense of urgency is palpable. We'll speak in the privacy of my office. Acid Pops." The gargoyle moved aside to let through the three of them, and they rode the stairs up to the door leading to the office. Dumbledore opened it and sat at his desk. He conjured comfortable chairs for Harry and Hermione, who also sat.

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore said, "what is troubling you?"

"Sir, I had another dream like last year with Arthur Weasley. No, I didn't really attack anyone," Harry said, after seeing the look of horror on Dumbledore's face, "well, I did, but it was only a nightmare because I attacked Hermione. Still, it felt like that dream from last year, especially because Voldemort ordered me to kill her."

"Professor," Hermione added, "Harry's afraid that Voldemort is using Legilimency to penetrate his mind."

"I surmised as such, Miss Granger, but thank you. As for you Harry, I believe you were just having a ruefully unpleasant nightmare. However, your concerns about Lord Voldemort are certainly warranted, and a refresher course in Occlumency could not hurt. Even if Lord Voldemort is not trying to penetrate your mind—and after last year, Harry, I highly doubt he is trying—that doesn't mean he won't try something more malicious in the future.

"My suggestion is to come to our meetings half an hour earlier, so that we you may practice Occlumency while you are still relatively awake. I realize that is cutting into precious time you could spend studying, but I am sure Miss Granger will help you make the best use of your time. Is that all right?"

"That's wonderful, sir," Harry said.

"Splendid," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Now, I will send you a message with the time for our next meeting. As I am weary, it will not be any time soon, but given your concerns I will try to arrange something for you as soon as I can."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said.

"You're welcome, Harry. You and Miss Granger are free to go." Harry and Hermione left the office, feeling considerably better than they did when they went in.

…

The rest of the Saturday was much more of a relief for both of them, and that eager anticipation of the night ahead returned to them after meeting with Dumbledore. Hermione winked at Harry when they said good night, and once again Harry couldn't sleep. Eager as he was for Hermione's arrival, he was still uneasy about sleeping. He hoped to avoid another nightmare like the one from last night.

At 11:50, Harry cast _Muffliato_ on the other four beds and the entrance to the room. He then propped himself up, eager for Hermione to arrive. Minutes later, a small tug on the curtain was the signal for Harry to let Hermione in. She entered, and a hand came free to draw the curtain. Harry was about to pull off the rest of the Cloak when she stopped him.

"Hold on, Harry, I have a surprise for you. Can you wait a moment?"

"I've been waiting for hours," Harry said, "and it's quite disconcerting to talk to you when I can't see your face."

"Sorry!" Hermione said, and soon her face appeared from beneath the Cloak.

"So what's the big surprise?" Harry asked.

"Well, you'll see in a minute, Harry, but I just want to make sure you don't laugh or judge me harshly."

"Why would I do that, Hermione?"

"I don't know, I'm just nervous," she said.

"You don't have to be," Harry said. Hermione took a deep breath, placed her trust in Harry, and removed the Invisibility Cloak. She wore nothing underneath.

Harry's eyes opened wide in disbelief. Hermione was beautiful, and apparently very bold, but she still seemed unsure of herself after removing the Cloak. Harry didn't mind in the slightest, but he was worried.

"Hermione," he asked carefully, hoping not to upset her, "what exactly did you have in mind tonight?"

"Well," Hermione said, "you told me that dream from last week, not the one from last night, and I've been thinking about it ever since. You're right about our friendship, Harry. Five years is long enough and life is too short to hesitate. So…I took a risk."

"You haven't answered my question," Harry said, "but I think I just answered it myself."

"Is it all right with you, Harry?" she asked. She had the most frightened look on her face, and for some reason Harry found it adorable.

His mind shut off and his body took over as he worked to undress himself. Hermione smiled with relief and helped him remove his clothing, kissing his face as she did. Harry kissed her in turn, and even with the spell they tried to be as quiet as possible. Soon Harry's clothes were on the foot of the bed, and to Harry, being with Hermione in this moment was even better than his dream. His hands explored her body at their own free will, and their mouths refused to break contact with each other.

Suddenly, to Harry's frustration, Hermione broke away.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I almost forgot something. Where's your wand?" Harry was confused, but he reached out of the curtain for his nightstand. He stuck his head out of the curtain, opened the drawer, and took his wand, which he gave to Hermione.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Taking precautions," Hermione answered, pointing the wand at Harry's crotch. Harry was about to protest, but before he could, Hermione whispered, "_Infelicitas._" An ice-cold chill spread through Harry's groin, but stopped as soon as it had started.

"Hermione," he asked, "what did you—"

"Spermicidal Hex," Hermione said, "It took me _ages_ to find it in the library. Don't ask, it's a long story. I think Madam Pince would have banned anyone else for trying to find it."

"Okay, never mind," Harry said, and there were no more hesitations. The two of them started to kiss again, and Harry was about to make his move, but he felt a raw, dark sensation pass through him, and he stopped.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, now frustrated with him.

"Hermione, it's…it's like my dream," Harry said. "It feels like Voldemort intruding my mind again." Hermione's frustration vanished, and she felt very sad for her friend.

"Do you want to try Occlumency?" she asked.

"Please, how am I supposed to empty my mind _now_?" Harry asked.

"You have a point," Hermione said. "You know what? Ignore it."

"What are you talking about?"

"That little bit of Voldemort that seems to be inside you," Hermione said, "sometimes I like to think of it as your wicked side. And, call me crazy, but I think this act calls for a bit of wickedness."

"So, we use it to our advantage?"

"I think so," Hermione whispered into his ear. Harry needed no further invitation. The two of them finally made love, and all thoughts of Voldemort vanished from Harry's mind as he felt an unprecedented sensation of euphoria penetrate his entire body.

Nothing else would ever make him feel quite the same again.


	11. Positively Putrid

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 11: Positively Putrid

Lord Voldemort had no intention of penetrating Harry's mind any further. He had seen all he needed to see, and it seemed the subtle warning he'd sent to Harry in his dream had not been enough to frighten him.

Harry had said once that the only reason he had achieved so much in the past couple of years was because he had friends to guide him. Well, Voldemort figured that if Harry were isolated from the ones he loved, killing him would be far easier. Clearly, this Hermione Granger was someone whom Harry cared for deeply, but Voldemort needed to find a better way to break them apart.

The time for subtlety was over. He should have known that Harry could not appreciate subtlety; rather, he had to be bashed upside the head before he understood the message.

Tomorrow night, Voldemort planned to raise the figurative frying pan and start bashing.

…

Harry rolled off Hermione, breathing heavily, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. The two of them looked at each other, wide-eyed, still in disbelief about what they had done.

"Sorry," Hermione said. Harry was confused.

"Sorry for what?"

"The blood."

"Please, give me the wand," Harry said. Hermione passed it to him. "_Scourgify_," Harry said, and his sheets were cleaned.

"Right," Hermione said, "what was I thinking?"

"I don't know," Harry said, "all I'm sure of is how incredible that felt."

"You're right. You hear so many stories, but you never really know until you've done it."

"When have you heard stories?" Harry asked.

"Oh, nowhere. It's just a figure of speech." The two gazed up at the ceiling, unsure of what to say or do next. Hermione finally smiled devilishly and turned to Harry.

"Want to do it again?" she asked. Harry looked at her in disbelief, but he was so taken aback by his excitement he couldn't stop to hesitate.

"Sure," Harry said, and the two of them began to kiss again.

…

Harry was once again late to rise on Sunday, but when he skipped down to the Common Room, he was surprised to find Ron alone, looking quite upset.

"Morning, Ron," Harry said, sitting next to him, "something wrong?"

"Lavender and I got into a fight," Ron said.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, "What happened?"

"You really want to know?" Ron asked, looking dejected.

"Of course, Ron. We're best mates, right?"

"Yeah, of course. I just didn't think you wanted to know."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. We know everything about each other." Harry suddenly realized that was not true at all, but he stifled his distress about that.

"Okay," Ron said, "last week, Lavender woke up in the middle of the night and Hermione wasn't in the dorm. She talked to me about it and asked if I knew where she was."

"She thinks you're cheating on her with Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I guess so. I told her the truth, that I'd no idea where Hermione was, and she seemed to believe me.

"Well, Hermione went missing again last night, and this time Lavender's sure we're messing around."

"Damn, Ron, that sucks…Are you messing around with Hermione?"

"Bloody hell, Harry, if we are then we're sure good at hiding it! Of course we're not. She'd use the Cruciatus Curse on me before letting me touch her."

"Right. Sorry, Ron, but I just wanted to make sure." Harry had only asked to keep Ron in the dark. It was obvious to him why Hermione hadn't been in her dorm.

"Have you talked to Hermione about all this?" Harry asked.

"You're off your rocker. That's the _last_ thing I want to bring up."

"Do you want me to talk to her, then?" Again, this was a formality. Harry was going to tell Hermione whether or not Ron expressed his permission.

"I don't know, it might make things between you two awkward."

"Okay, Ron. I won't tell her," Harry said, shocked at how easy it was to lie to his friend.

"Hermione went down to breakfast," Ron said, "in case you were wondering."

"Okay, thanks," Harry said, trying not to sound too anxious.

"Blew me off without even saying 'Good morning.'"

"Well…I'm sorry, Ron, but what do you expect?"

"Good point."

"All right, I'm starved, so I'm going to go down for breakfast. You coming?"

"No thanks, Harry. I'm not very hungry."

"Okay, well, see you later." Harry left Ron alone in the Common Room. He walked casually until the Fat Lady portrait closed, then jogged down the corridors. He moved so blindly that he nearly ran into Hagrid, who was carrying an armload of wreaths for the Christmas season.

"Careful there, 'Arry," he said, "don't want ter hurt yerself."

"Hello, Hagrid!" Harry said, flustered, "I haven't seen you in a while."

"Been busy with…well…_you_ know…me little brother."

"Right," Harry said, even though Hagrid's "little" brother towered ten feet above him.

"So," Hagrid said, putting down the wreaths, "what's yer hurry? It's Sunday mornin'."

"Oh, I just slept in pretty late and I'm _really_ hungry." Harry felt a pang of guilt; lying to Hagrid was always painful, as the half-giant trusted Harry without question.

"I know the feelin'," Hagrid said with a chuckle. Harry tried to laugh, too, but the sound was caught in his throat.

"You sure yer okay, 'Arry?" Hagrid asked, "ya look exhausted."

"I'm…look, a lot's happened in the past few weeks, and it's still spiraling in my head."

"Yeah, yeah, school an' all. Can only imagine meself what sixth-years have ter go through. I'm almost thankful I didn't have ter do it meself."

"It's not just school, Hagrid," Harry said, "it's…well, too much to discuss in a public corridor."

"Are ya busy this afternoon?" Hagrid asked. Given the amount of studying he and Hermione had accomplished Saturday, Harry was free.

"No, not really."

"Come down ter the hut, then. I'll make tea and we can talk, just the two of us."

"Really? Thanks, Hagrid."

"Don't mention it, 'Arry. Pleasure's all mine." With that in mind, Harry could breathe a lot easier. He went off to breakfast at a more leisurely pace, eagerly awaiting his talk with Hagrid but positively dreading the thought of drinking Hagrid's tea.

…

Harry and Hermione were among the sparse gathering of Gryffindor students in the Great Hall, so they sat removed from the others so they could talk in relative privacy.

"Hermione, I've got to tell you something."

"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked, concerned for her friend.

"Lavender's noticed your absences the past couple of Saturday nights, and she's worried you're messing around with Ron."

"What? How can she possibly think that?" Come to think of it, Harry was confused himself. Lavender had no doubt heard about the fight between the two of them. How could she think Ron and Hermione were messing around after all that tension.

"Harry, Lavender would be the last one to suspect that," Hermione said, "I think she's setting Ron against me."

"How do you reckon?"

"Accuse him of cheating on her with me, and Ron will do absolutely anything to avoid being near me."

"That scheming—" Harry stopped himself, as he was getting a strange look from Professor Snape, who was eating his oatmeal at the faculty table.

"Well," Hermione said, "it's actually pretty convenient. I don't want to talk to Ron anyway."

"Okay, but what if she suspects something else? There's obviously a reason you're out of bed so late."

"Harry, there's not much I can do about it. After last night, I will not stop seeing you just to avoid scrutiny from gossips like Lavender Brown."

"All right, let's just keep our ears open. I still don't want this to become public, or Ron will disown me for life."

"I understand, Harry, and I promise I'll be more careful next time."

"Thank you." The two of them proceeded to eat their breakfast, both reminiscing about the night before.

…

Harry set off for Hagrid's hut after lunch after pocketing some pastries for himself. He also had his wand; if Hagrid's tea was particularly awful, he could always transfigure it into water—or milk, if he dared to attempt it.

When he knocked on the door to the hut he heard Fang lift himself off the floor and start barking. Hagrid opened the door and smiled as he welcomed Harry inside. Fang galumphed over to Harry and started sniffing his pockets, hoping for a treat.

"'Arry, so good to see you. Tea?" Hagrid asked, offering the kettle. Harry said a small cup would suffice, and while Hagrid shut off the stove and put the kettle away, Harry sniffed the tea. He quickly transfigured it into water; the smell of the tea was positively putrid.

"So what's goin' on, if it ain't school?" Hagrid asked, drinking from a large flask, "Quidditch?"

"No."

"Missin' Sirius?" It had been a while since Harry had thought of Sirius Black, and a pang of remorse hit him.

"That's still sad, but it's not it."

"Oh, sorry. Is You-Know-Who givin' ya trouble?"

"A little, but that's not quite it either."

"Worse than You-Know-Who? Blimey, 'Arry, I'm stumped…wait. Girls?"

"Well, one in particular."

"They're somethin', 'Arry, they really are. Wonderful at the best of times, torture at the worst. So, if I'm not intrudin', which girl is givin' ya trouble? Someone I might know?"

Harry took a deep breath as Hagrid took a gulp of his drink. "Hermione." Hagrid spit his tea at the far wall and hastily wiped his beard with his towel-sized napkin while Harry cleaned the spill with a wave of his wand.

"'Ermione Granger? Ya don't say. Always thought she'd end up with Ron, somehow. What's been goin' on?"

"It's a long story. You might want to put your cup down until I finish." Hagrid set down his flask and leaned forward in his chair, eager to listen. Harry told him everything, sparing no detail. The first kiss in the Common Room, the angst between Hermione and Ron, even the secret rendezvous they'd had in Harry's bed. Harry would have only trusted one other person with such personal information: Sirius.

"Good lord, 'Arry, I had no idea."

"Me neither until two weeks ago. What do you think I should do?"

"Keep yer mouth shut about it. Yer right about the other students, they'll crucify ya if they find out. And I don't think Ron'd ever forgive ya."

"Oh," Harry said, "I was hoping you'd tell me something else."

"Why's that?"

"I just feel bad about keeping this whole thing a secret. I wish it didn't have to be that way."

"'Arry, I wish that, too. If you were anyone else and if she were any other girl, I'd agree with ya. But ya can't take that chance, 'Arry, ya just can't."

"All right. Well, thanks, Hagrid. It's good to talk about this with someone I can trust."

"Yer welcome, 'Arry, and I promise not to breathe a word of it ter Ron or anyone else."

"Thanks, Hagrid, but you can talk to Hermione."

"Nat'rally. Good luck, and I'll see ya around."

"Bye, Hagrid." Harry left the hut with mixed emotions.

…

Harry told Hermione he'd been to see Hagrid and what Hagrid had said. Hermione was glad he had chosen to reach out to him; like Harry, she trusted no one else.

Therefore, Harry felt better when he went to bed that night, and he went to sleep with little trouble.

He dreamed that he was alone in a cold, stone room. Suddenly, a figure Apparated right in front of him, but it could not be seen clearly in the shadows. Harry lit his wand, and he gasped when he saw Lord Voldemort holding Hermione Granger, his wand pointed at her temple. Harry raised his own wand.

"Let her go!" he cried, trying to sound menacing but coming off weak. Voldemort laughed, a sound that sent a chill up Harry's spine.

"_Come now, Harry,_" he murmured in Parseltongue, "_you have to try harder than that. I know all about the torrid affair you've been having with this girl. I know how much you love her._" Hermione squealed in fright and tried to break free. Voldemort dug the wand into her temple. She stopped squirming.

Harry didn't know what to do. Voldemort could block a spell of his easily, and he was sure he couldn't convince him to let her go.

"_Harry,_" Voldemort said, "_I've been perusing your mind at my leisure. I know you could never forgive yourself if you watched your lover die before your eyes, knowing you could have prevented it. So, I'll make you a deal. I'll let her live if you revoke your ties with her and your Mudblood-loving Weasley friend._"

"No way, Voldemort. I won't abandon my friends."

"Harry?" Hermione asked, "what is he saying?"

"Quiet, you foolish girl!" Voldemort hissed in English.

"_So,_" he said to Harry, "_you refuse to take my offer. So selfish, Harry, you'd rather they die your friends than live as strangers. But perhaps it's easy to defy me in a dream. Believe me Harry, you may think you're safe at Hogwarts with Dumbledore around. But Dumbledore is growing old, and when he dies Hogwarts is mine for the taking. And your friends will be that much closer to death._

"_My offer to you still stands. Abandon your friends or watch them die. You have until Hogwarts falls, which is less time than you think. And believe me, I will be coming to collect._

"_As for now, I must show you what will happen if you refuse. AVADA KEDAVRA_!" Hermione screamed with the first word of the curse; she was dead with the second word. Harry screamed in agony, raised his wand, and cast curse after curse at the man he hated so much. Voldemort deflected them with ease, laughing shrilly at Harry's pain. Tears flooded Harry's eyes at the audacity of his enemy.

Harry awoke, screaming, tears and sweat streaming down his face. It had been just a nightmare, yes. But the nightmare had felt so real.


	12. Drugged out of your Mind

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 12: Drugged out of your Mind

Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean were by Harry's side the instant he had started screaming. Harry's face was ghost-white, he was sweating viciously, and he felt ready to hurl at any second.

"Harry!" Ron cried, "what happened?" Harry tried to take a few deep breaths. He then managed to gasp a single word.

"Nightmare." The effort made him dizzy, and he shut his eyes to try to clear his head.

"He needs the Hospital Wing," Dean said.

"No…Dumbledore…" Harry protested. He felt some foul liquid burn up his throat but he managed to swallow it back down.

"Okay, that's it," Ron said, "Neville, go see Madam Pomfrey and ask her for a potion or something to help Harry. Seamus and Dean, find Professor McGonagall and tell her what happened. I'm taking Harry to Professor Dumbledore."

"But Ron," Dean said, "he's about to vomit all over his bed. He needs medical care."

"I'm just listening to what Harry's saying. He wants to see Dumbledore, he's going to see Dumbledore. Can you stand, Harry?" Harry shook his head, then clutched his forehead in pain.

"Christ," Ron said, "I'm sorry, Harry, but this'll have to do. _Levicorpus_!" Harry felt his body lurch out of his sheets, making him feel more nauseous.

"Let's go," Ron said, with Harry floating behind him as he left the room. The other three left to do what Ron had told them.

Ron brought Harry down the staircase as gently as he could, but Harry's body still bumped into a few walls. Harry finally lost control and vomited in the Common Room.

"Yuck," Ron said, smelling the foul fluid, "someone's gonna have to clean that up."

"Well," Harry said, "I feel a bit better now. I think you can put me down." Ron made to drop him where he floated.

"Not on the puke!" Harry cried. Ron moved him far from that mess before uttering _Liberacorpus_. Harry landed squarely but then stumbled. Ron went over so Harry could lean on him.

"Let's get to Dumbledore," Ron said.

The two of them finally made it to Dumbledore's office about five minutes later. Harry gave the password and they rode up the spiral staircase. This made Harry a bit more queasy, but not unsettled enough to vomit again. Ron knocked on the door to the office, and Professor Dumbledore let them in immediately.

"What warrants such a late-night intrusion?" Dumbledore asked, but not in a scolding manner. He was wearing a nightgown, but still had a towering presence.

"Harry had a very bad dream," Ron said.

"It was Voldemort," Harry said, gasping for breath after walking all the way to the office. "I dreamed he killed Hermione, right in front of me."

"My word, Harry, that is quite disturbing," Dumbledore said, "Did it feel like a dream, or was it far more real?"

"It felt real," Harry said, "like I was standing right in front of him. I felt a shiver up my spine when he spoke."

"Then I am afraid, Harry, that you won't be returning to your dormitory anytime soon. I had hoped that you could begin Occlumency lessons with me sometime next week, but now the need for such training is far more pressing." Suddenly, there was another knock at the door. Professor Dumbledore strode to the door and peeped out the keyhole, and he saw Professor McGonagall. He let her inside, with Seamus and Dean shortly behind her.

"Albus," McGonagall said, "these two boys told me what happened with Harry. I came here immediately, but I see now that he is in your care."

"Yes, Minerva, and he is quite safe with me. You may escort Seamus and Dean back to their House." Seamus and Dean began to protest. They wanted to make sure Harry was all right.

"I assure you," Dumbledore told them, "that you may check up on Harry once he has returned to the dormitory, and if he is willing to address you. He is doing just fine as things are presently, so I ask that you please return to your dormitory." Seamus and Dean consented, and Professor McGonagall lead them out.

"Oh, Professor," Ron said, "we're expecting Neville to come up with a potion for Harry any minute now."

"Thank you, Ronald," Dumbledore said, "Now, normally I would have told Minerva to escort you back to your room as well, but given that you are Harry's closest friend, I am sure you would have blatantly refused to leave his side. Am I correct?"

"Absolutely, sir," Ron said, and Harry felt his heart lift. As annoyed as he'd been with Ron, he was glad his friend was by his side.

"Good, then I expect that you will help Harry with his Occlumency training. It might benefit you as well, since I am sure Lord Voldemort might try to infiltrate your mind." Ron, who usually shuddered at this name, stood resolute.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey burst into the room, with Neville panting behind her.

"I'm sorry, Ron," Neville said, "I only asked for the potion, but she told me she had to come herself."

"Albus, I implore you," exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, who was herself trying to catch her breath, "this boy needs to rest in the Hospital Wing tonight. He has been through severe mental trauma, and he needs medical attention immediately, _not_ just some Pepperup Potion, as his friend would suggest." Harry was a bit annoyed. Sure, he'd felt awful when he woke up, but now his stomach was starting to settle.

"Poppy," Dumbledore said, "I assure you, if Harry comes under any more…trauma, as you put it, I will send him down at once. However, after seeing him in person, I believe a tonic will suffice for the time being."

Madam Pomfrey considered objecting, but the headmaster's will was too strong. She placed a small flask of potion on his desk and strode out of the room, Neville lagging behind her.

"Drink up, Harry," Dumbledore said, "and we will begin your lesson."

…

After an hour of trying to resist Dumbledore's penetrations—which, though they weren't as viciously overwhelming as Snape's, were still quite brutal—Harry was exhausted and ready to pass out on the floor of his office.

"I think that's enough for tonight, Harry," Dumbledore told him after Ron helped him up from a tiring bout. "Ron will help you back to your room. We will meet again on Tuesday. I fear to wait any longer, what with the holiday break looming near."

"All right, sir," Harry said. "I'll see you then." Ron escorted Harry out of the office, and they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Are you feeling all right, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Yes, just tired," Harry said.

"What if Voldemort tries to give you nightmares again?" Ron asked.

"I'll fight them," Harry said. His first Occlumency lesson with Dumbledore had already been more productive than all of last year's lessons with Snape. Harry now felt more confident than ever that he could empty his mind and keep Voldemort out.

"All right, mate, I trust you."

…

Harry told Hermione what had happened the next morning, while they were studying. Ron had almost joined the conversation, but he still felt things between him and Hermione were too awkward.

"Harry, that's dreadful," Hermione said. "You-Know-Who must know about us by now. Do you think he'll try to have it leaked?"

"What?"

"To the media, you know, the newspapers."

"No," Harry said, "I think he's trying to use it against me. If the media got word of it, we'd stop seeing each other and he wouldn't have that weapon."

"Yes, but if you perfect your Occlumency—and I sincerely hope you do, now more than ever—he might resort to that."

"Honestly, Hermione, I don't care about that right now. I just want the nightmares to stop."

"All right, Harry. Do you still feel up for…?"

"Hermione, I've been waiting all week. It's the only thing that'll get me through today." Hermione smiled; it's the only thing that had gotten her through this week, too.

"Okay, well, on a less serious topic…" she said, "I've heard all sorts of rumors this week."

"Really? I've been trying to ignore them." This had become second nature to Harry, as he was so used to rumors about him by now.

"Yes, me too, but the others are getting more ridiculous. If you would believe what you heard, I'm now pregnant with your child, your drugged out of your mind with Love Potion, and we're getting married over the holiday break." Harry laughed.

"Well, thankfully, none of that's true," he said.

"Yes, it is rather silly," Hermione said, though she was not so happy. Suddenly, almost as if on cue, Neville walked hesitantly over to them.

"Hey Harry, Hermione," he said, blushing. "Well, first of all, are you okay, Harry?" Harry had gone right to bed after returning to his dorm, refusing to talk to Neville, Seamus, and Dean.

"I'm fine, Neville. I feel a lot better."

"All right. After last night, I wasn't sure if I should tell you, but I've heard kids saying that you've gotten a girl pregnant, and I wasn't sure to believe it, but—"

"Don't," Hermione said. "There have been all sorts of rumors about Harry lately."

"Right, of course. I should know better. But, I just want to warn you, it was a Slytherin girl talking, and she says some of them are already modifying those buttons from fourth year. You remember those, right?" Harry did, the SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY badges were almost etched in his mind, as well as the other part of the badge, the one that said POTTER STINKS.

"Yeah, so, um…don't be surprised if you see them around after the holidays," Neville said. He waved and walked away rather awkwardly.

"The rubbish people believe these days," Hermione said.

"I know," Harry said. They returned to their work, amusing themselves with what the new buttons might say.

…

Harry was happy to see Hermione return to his room that night, wearing as much as she had worn last week. He was waiting for her this time with nothing but the glasses on his face and the wand at his side. Hermione quickly performed the Spermicidal Hex again, and the two of them started to roll around on the bed.

In that moment, Harry forgot all about Voldemort's threats and the students' rumors. All he could think of was the beautiful and surprisingly vivacious girl on top of him, one who brought in him a very special pleasure that could not be imitated by any other.

When she rolled off of him, panting with a smile on her face, the three words slipped effortlessly from her parted lips, "I love you." It took a few seconds for her to register what she had said, and then a short-lived panic set in.

The panic was relieved when Harry replied, "I love you, too." Soon, the two of them were kissing again, revisiting their passion with a new sense of their strong connection. The evocation of their love had not been forced or brought on by pressure; it had come as naturally as those first kisses in the Common Room, as the dreams that so often welcomed them in the night, as their friendship that had started on Halloween so long ago.

When Harry went to sleep that night, he thought of Hermione in an entirely new light. No longer was she the friend with whom he shared a physical longing. They were now a part of each other, one entity amidst two bodies, and he felt that this connection would last them for eternity.

He slept as soundly as he ever had with those pleasant thoughts resounding within him. Harry felt more complete than he had in a very long time.


	13. You Look Like a Real Hag

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 13: You Look Like a Real Hag

It looked like Neville was wrong about the buttons, because in the remaining weeks before Christmas break, Harry saw no Slytherin wearing one. If word got out about the two of them, though, he was sure he would start seeing them.

The last few weeks at Hogwarts were, overall, some of Harry's best. He felt complete as a person when Hermione was around, which was very frequently. When she was away, he felt like part of him went with her. Love like this was entirely knew to Harry, and it was like no other kind of happiness he had ever felt. All the clichés he had ever heard in both Muggle and wizard music were beginning to realize themselves.

He wasn't sure how Ron was doing it, but his grades stayed strong with Lavender's assistance. Perhaps trying to get along with Hermione had been a distraction for him, because it seemed like Ron was far more productive in his schoolwork than he ever used to be. This made Harry very much relieved, as he would have felt guilty if Ron started failing his classes. Harry still felt responsible for the rift between his two best friends.

As far as Voldemort's disturbing presence, Dumbledore's Occlumency lessons were proving quite successful. Dumbledore was also finding time to teach Ron and Hermione as well, even though Harry had requested that they each have their own separate lessons. Harry was surprised at the improvement he was making. The horrible nightmares had come to a stop as soon as they had started. But when Harry found out the reason why, he was a bit dismayed.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, "the reason your dreams have stopped is not just because of your skills in Occlumency." Harry's heart sank; he thought he had been improving markedly.

"I have been using a bit of my own magic to protect your dreams," Dumbledore continued, "Last year, I didn't dare do so because I was afraid of being anywhere near your mind. Foolish, yes, but I did many foolish things last year. Anyway, my protection only lasts when we are in close proximity. I assume you'll be staying at the Burrow over the holidays?"

"Yeah," Harry said, "how did you know?"

"Ronald told me. My point is, Harry, you will be far more susceptible to Voldemort's Legilimency when you are away. Your holiday break will be your first true test in Occlumency."

"All right, sir," Harry said, feeling crestfallen.

"Harry, it is not that I don't trust in your abilities. You have shown remarkable improvement in such a short amount of time. I just wanted to provide you immediate relief from Lord Voldemort, what with everything else you have going on." Harry felt better about this.

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said, "I'll do my best over the holidays."

"I'm glad to hear that, Harry. I will want a report on any nightmares you have ready when you return to school. Consider it homework over the break, but please take this assignment seriously."

"I will, sir."

"I knew you would, Harry."

…

The only dreadful thing to happen before the break was Professor Slughorn's Christmas party. Hermione asked Harry to go with her, as Cormac had been lurking near her more often than was natural. Harry agreed to be her date; he figured it was either that, or take Luna Lovegood.

So the night of the party came, and Harry reluctantly put on his green dress robes. He had to laugh, however, remembering Ron's horrid lavender robes from fourth year. He also remembered that Hermione had agreed to a rendezvous afterward, sort of a reward for tolerating the boring Professor Slughorn for hours on end.

Ron walked into the room and shook his head.

"I don't envy you, mate," Ron said, "but you look damn fine at least."

"Thanks," Harry said. He waited for Ron to say what he really wanted to say. Harry knew this because Ron was standing rather rigidly, which was unusual for him.

"So," Ron said, "taking Hermione to Slughorn's Christmas party…"

"Yeah," Harry said, "why wouldn't I?"

"No reason," Ron said. His voice was strangely high-pitched, and his eyebrows threatened to be lost in his red hair. Harry only remembered Ron acting like this once before: when he refused to believe Harry didn't place his name in the Goblet of Fire. Harry feared another fallout, especially when he was going to be staying at his house for Christmas.

"Ron, look," Harry said, "Hermione and I are friends. She was afraid Cormac was going to back her into a wall, so she asked me instead. That's it." Ron's eyebrows rose even higher, and Harry started to panic.

"I know you've been hearing the rumors, Harry…" Ron said in that same eerie high pitch. "Are they true?"

"Ron, come on. Since when have you listened to anything other people say about me?"

"Are they true?"

"Ron, you should know better."

"Are they true?"

"Now you're just being childish."

"ARE THEY TRUE?" The mirror Harry was using to get dressed suddenly shattered, and Harry cowered at the angriest face Ron had ever sported. Ron took a few deep breaths, but he did not stop glaring at Harry. Harry turned away, hoping that Ron would leave him alone.

"Fine, don't tell me," Ron said, "I'll see you later." Harry heard Ron walk out of the room, and he tried to bite back tears.

…

After repairing the mirror and attempting to comb his hair, Harry went down to the Common Room. He found Hermione waiting for him, hair straightened and cheeks rosy. She wore a pale pink dress that complemented her complexion and made the color of her eyes stand out. Harry was taken aback at her beauty.

"Hi, Harry," she said, "do you like the dress? Sorry, I had to ask, I tried on the periwinkle one but it's too formal for this occasion, and I had to magically alter this at the last moment. It's actually not mine, it's Parvati's, she's letting me borrow it. Oh, listen to me, it seems silly to get worked up for this party, I'm dreading it so, but I'm glad you're my date! Cormac will leave me alone and we have an excuse to be near each other but not too close because we don't want anyone to get suspicious and—" Harry stopped Hermione with a kiss after making sure no one was in the Common Room.

"You look beautiful, Hermione." Hermione almost started to cry.

"Thank you, Harry! It means so much."

"Well, what else was I going to say? 'Sorry, Hermione, you look like a real hag.'" Hermione laughed, and she and Harry walked out of the Common Room side-by-side. In the corridor, Harry wrapped his right arm around Hermione's left.

"Harry, be careful…" Hermione warned.

"I just want to make sure everyone knows we're each other's dates," Harry said, "This is the least intimate way to do so." Hermione had to admit, holding hands would have looked more suspicious than this.

"That and you can't stand to be away from me…" Hermione teased.

"Yes, that, too," Harry said, and the two of them laughed. Their joy, however, was momentary; it deflated when they finally arrived at the party and found Professor Slughorn.

"Miss Granger! Mister Potter! So glad you could make it!" he shouted, so that he could attract the attention of as many guests as possible. "Harry, you've no idea how many people I want to introduce you to! Come, come." Professor Slughorn wrapped his arm around Harry's free arm, strong as a vice, and dragged him to a group of important-looking wizards. Hermione could only be dragged along for the ride.

While Harry shook endless hands and said endlessly "Nice to meet you," Hermione had to stand politely and wait to be introduced endlessly. Each of them thought they had it worse. The introductions took ten minutes at best, but it seemed to them like they had just sat through a week's worth of Professor Binn's History of Magic class.

Thankfully, the rest of the party was a bit more enjoyable, as they made every effort to avoid Professor Slughorn and Cormac McCarthy, who had found a date at the last possible moment and looked furious about it. Neither Harry nor Hermione knew the girl he had brought, and neither stuck around long enough to find out.

"Boy," Harry said to Hermione when they were out of Cormac's sight, "he looks _steamed_. When did he finally ask you?"

"This morning," Hermione said, "that's why he had to scramble to find someone else. He tried to pressure me into going with him, but I told him I was going with you instead."

"What did he say to that?"

"Actually, that was the strange thing. He said 'I should have known.'" Harry was reminded of Ron telling him he had heard rumors, and he wondered if he had overheard Cormac grumbling.

"Oh, Hermione, I almost forgot! Something bad happened between Ron and I."

"God, what is his problem _this_ time?" Harry told her of their confrontation in the dormitory earlier. Hermione shook her head.

"He's jealous, there's no other way to put it. Well, for all I care, he can cry in Lavender's bosom about it."

"Yeah, but we're both staying at the Burrow for Christmas, and now he won't talk to either of us! Do you know how awkward that's going to be?"

"We'll deal with it together. Ron will just have to learn to get over it." At this point the conversation was interrupted, as Harry saw Professor Slughorn looking around, and he had a suspicion who he was trying to find.

The topic of Ron was not brought up for the rest of the night, as Argus Filch barged into the party, dragging Draco Malfoy by the ear. Professor Slughorn went to talk to them quickly, hoping not to cause a scene, and Harry was surprised to see Professor Snape join them. Shortly afterward, Snape and Malfoy left. Harry was dying to follow them, but Hermione wouldn't have it.

"Harry, don't," Hermione said, "I know you think Malfoy's up to something, but we're still not sure what happened at Knockturn Alley. Besides, if you got caught eavesdropping you'd get into so much trouble and we might not be able to meet up later." That convinced Harry, so he let Snape and Malfoy have their discussion privately. Part of him still burned to know what they were discussing, but a stronger part of him burned for Hermione.

Well, after much mead drinking and forced mingling, the Slug Club Christmas Party came to an end, and Harry and Hermione were the first to leave. When they were alone, Hermione spoke.

"I have just one question for you, Harry," she said.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Should I come tonight with the dress on, or without?"

Harry swallowed nervously and hesitated to answer.

"Oh wait," Hermione said, "Parvati will want it back…Without, I guess."

"Glad that's settled then."

"All right. See you in a minute."

…

Harry went through what was now a routine. He removed his dress robes and everything else behind the curtains of his bed, cast _Muffliato_ on the other four beds so their inhabitants wouldn't hear anything, and waited eagerly for Hermione's arrival. It came even sooner than he expected, and when the Invisibility Cloak came off, Harry's eyes brightened with joy.

"Well," Harry said, "as beautiful as you looked in that dress tonight, I'd say you're even more beautiful out of it."

"Oh, there's no need for flattery, Harry. Just hand me the wand and let's get going."

"Well, all right then." Harry handed Hermione the wand, she performed the Hex, and soon the unbridled euphoria returned.

…

The students who were leaving for the break were waiting at the Hogsmeade station, toting their luggage. Ron and Lavender were nowhere near Harry and Hermione, and for just the third time ever, the three friends would not be riding in the same compartment. The other two times had been on account of mandatory prefect meetings, which Ron and Hermione had both been required to attend.

Harry and Hermione sat in the same compartment as Neville and Luna. Though they were definitely pleasant friends to pass the long ride with, especially since their infiltration of the Department of Mysteries, Harry missed Ron's presence in the compartment. He dared not say this to Hermione, though; she certainly did not miss Ron's presence.

"Did you enjoy the Christmas Party?" Luna asked, breaking Harry out of his train of thought.

"Well…it was a bit of a drag, really," Harry said.

"Oh," Luna said, "it's just, for some funny reason, I feel like I should have been there…The nargles must be clouding my judgment."

"Sure, I'll go with that," Harry said. The train ride back to King's Cross Station was unusually ordinary. No rat attacks, no explosions of _Mimbulus mimbletonia_, not even a report of a lost toad. Harry couldn't help thinking that Ron's absence had contributed to such an ordinary trip.

When the train finally stopped at London, Harry and Hermione were forced to reunite with Ron, as the Weasleys were picking them all up so they could return to the Burrow. Though Harry was delighted to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley again, he couldn't help but feel that this would be one of the worst holiday seasons since he was ten years old, when Dudley had beaten him mercilessly with his Christmas stockings full of stones.


	14. Water Under the Bridge

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 14: Water Under the Bridge

Side-Along Apparition was the method of travel chosen by the Weasleys to get everybody back to the Burrow. They had brought Bill and Fleur Delacour with them, as they wanted to have one person Apparate with each student. The eight of them left King's Cross station with everyone's luggage. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley hurried the party into a deserted alleyway, so no Muggle could see them Apparate. Everyone paired up quickly; Harry, being the most important person to secure, went with Mr. Weasley. When they Apparted, Harry felt his body being squeezed tightly on all sides. Though he had felt this before alongside Dumbledore months ago, the experience was still unsettling. The two of them arrived just outside the Burrow, and the others soon followed.

Everyone was hurried into the Burrow, and though Harry was still upset with Ron, he was thankful to be at his house. To Harry, the Burrow was the only place outside of Hogwarts which felt like home.

"All right," Mrs. Weasley said when everyone was inside, "your dinner is nearly ready. Albus set up some tight security around the house, so you should be safe over the holidays as long as you _stay inside_. I mean it, you're not to go outside unless accompanied by Arthur, Dumbledore's orders. Arthur's on holiday as well, and he's more than happy to join you.

"Harry, can I have a word with you?" she asked. Harry consented and followed her to the living room.

"Oh, silly me, with all the stress over security I haven't had a chance to ask: How has your year been?" Harry was blown away by the usually casual question. So much had happened within the past month that it was hard to describe with a few words.

"Well…to be honest, Mrs. Weasley, I haven't the time to explain it right now. This year's been a lot of things."

"That's quite all right, m'dear, I know nothing at Hogwarts comes easy. Now, Albus wrote me specifically to tell you that if you have any nightmares about You-Know-Who—any at all—you are free to come talk to me and Arthur. We want to make sure your stay here is pleasant and especially safe. Also, if you have any troubles, Remus will be visiting from time to time and he will be more than happy to help you out. And I'm sure Ron and Hermione will be more than glad to help as well."

This last part made Harry feel extremely uncomfortable. Of course, Hermione was more than willing to help Harry. Clearly, though, Ron had not been telling his mother what had been occurring lately. It was a topic which Harry certainly didn't want to bring up now.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he said, "it means a lot."

"It's my pleasure, Harry. Now, go on, eat up before your food gets cold." Mrs. Weasley led Harry back to the kitchen, where Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had already begun to eat. She had made filet mignon, and it smelled delicious.

"Now, Fred and George are here as well," Mrs. Weasley said, "but they already ate with Bill and Fleur. I wish we could have all eaten a meal together, but there's simply no room in this kitchen and Albus warned us not to go outside tonight. Once you're all done, I'll escort you all to bed. Arthur's already taking care of your luggage. Enjoy." Mrs. Weasley exhaled with relief when she left the kitchen, having said all she needed to.

The dinner was spent in uncomfortable silence, quite similar to their numerous breakfasts in the Great Hall, but for different reasons. Ron was an outcast to both Harry and Hermione now, and his little sister didn't help to make him feel any more comfortable. So, he ate even faster than usual (which was saying something), and went to bed early. The other three wished him a prompt goodnight, but no more. As soon as he was out of earshot, Ginny started asking questions.

"What's going on with Ron?" she asked. "He's _never_ like this around you two. Well, never mind, I know what he's gone through with you, Hermione. But now he's got a problem with you, Harry?"

"You've heard all the rumors, haven't you, Ginny? About us?" Harry asked.

"Yes, and they're complete rubbish. Everyone knows you two are friends, and everyone knows Ron's been a real git lately."

"Well," Hermione said bitterly, "Ron seems to believe them."

"Stupid prat," Ginny said, and Harry felt sudden admiration. He was glad she was taking his side on the matter. "He really needs to grow up."

"Yeah, well, we can't help him there," Harry said.

"You don't think a good kick in the nads will set him straight?" Harry nearly choked on his baked potato. Hermione hit him hard on the back, and the morsel was dislodged from his throat. He swallowed it and started laughing out loud. Hermione and Ginny joined him, and the mood at the table was instantly lightened.

"No," Harry said, "but it's worth a shot, isn't it?" This caused more giggling, and Harry was finally relaxed for the first time since arriving here.

"Well, Harry," Ginny said once the laughter had subsided, "you'll have to work things out with him. You're probably sleeping in Ron's room all holiday."

"You're right. Your mum doesn't seem to know what's happened lately."

"You should talk to her," Ginny said, "No, seriously," she added when Harry shook her head. "Your like a son to her, Harry, and she's definitely one to make sure quarrels get settled fast. Come on, it's either that, or suffer through Christmas."

"She's right, Harry," Hermione said, "If you feel weird talking to her, I'll go with you." Harry felt better about the idea, so he agreed that they would talk to Molly tomorrow.

"Thanks, Ginny," Harry said.

"It's nothing," she said through a bite of filet.

…

Harry was indeed sharing a room with Ron, but it seemed Ron was already asleep by the time he was in the room. Thankful to avoid further awkwardness, Harry changed quickly and went to sleep on the spare bed.

He made a deliberate effort to empty his mind before bed, mindful of what Dumbledore had told him. It was difficult, though, thoughts of Ron kept surfacing in his mind, seemingly out of Harry's control.

Harry's dream that night was not Voldemort related in the slightest, but it was still unnerving. He dreamed that he and Hermione were kissing in the Common Room, only to have Ron walk in on them unexpectedly.

"How long?" he asked coldly, with no emotion in his voice. It was as if his insides had turned metallic.

"Since November," Hermione said. Harry made to protest, but Hermione shushed him.

"It's too late, Harry," she said, "we have to come clean."

"So this is why you've been taking _her_ side," Ron said, "so what, is it just snogging, or have you two fucked?"

"Ron," Hermione said, "don't use that word—"

"Have you?" Ron asked, "Have you been shagging?"

"Don't do this, Ron," Hermione pleaded.

"Well, I'll take _that_ as a yes," Ron said bitterly, "I haven't slept with Lavender. You want to know why?" Hermione didn't answer. Harry wanted to speak, but he seemed to have no control over his vocal cords.

"I'll tell you why," Ron said, "because I still had hope, Hermione, that we could work out our issues. I was holding out for you, and all this time you've been fucking my best friend."

"Ron, _please_ don't use that word—"

"FUCK!" Ron yelled, and Hermione nearly started crying. "Well, I'm not just going to sit back anymore. Lavender? Where are you, sweetie?" And Lavender suddenly came out of nowhere and wrapped herself obediently around Ron's side.

"Did you know Harry and Hermione are sleeping together?" Lavender shook her head. Harry was furious, but he still couldn't find a thing to say. Hermione kept glancing at him, imploring him to speak up, but Harry couldn't.

"Well, they are, so I'd figure I might want to see how it feels? Are you up for it?" Lavender nodded, excitement teeming in her eyes. Ron and Lavender started kissing and removing each other's robes. Hermione turned away from them, but now Harry had lost control of his entire body. He couldn't turn away, he could only watch as Ron and Lavender laid together on the floor.

Harry finally awoke, and he vowed that Ron could never know about him and Hermione, or any slim chance Harry had to reconcile with Ron would be dashed forever.

…

After breakfast the next morning, Harry and Hermione ignored a "friendly" request from Fred and George to try some experimental candy for the joke shop and went to find Mrs. Weasley. She was knitting scarves in the living room, perhaps to be included in the Christmas gifts.

"Oh, you two," she said, beaming in a way that made Harry instantly suspicious, "how are you?"

"Well," Hermione said, "things at Hogwarts have been…odd, lately, and we wanted your advice."

"All right then, I'm always happy to lend a hand. Come, sit." Harry and Hermione sat on the couch, next to each other, which made Mrs. Weasley beam even more. Harry was downright confused.

"I think I already know what this is about," she said.

"What?" Harry asked, perhaps too suddenly, as Mrs. Weasley seemed taken aback.

"Well, seeing you two at dinner, it's not hard to tell you've got something special," she said. "Believe me, I know all about it. When Arthur and I first dated, we could barely contain ourselves, we were so happy."

"Well…" Hermione said, "I guess we won't have to hide it from you anymore."

"Oh, splendid!" Mrs. Weasley said. "I always thought you two should be together. But what do you mean, 'hide' it? What's going on?"

"Well," said Harry, "to be honest, it's Ron. We're afraid he won't take the news too well."

"I can't say I blame you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, "we've had a lot of talks about him and you, Hermione. So, he doesn't know?"

"You're the only person we've told, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Harry added, "we don't need the whole school hounding us about it, so we've kept it secret."

"For how long?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"About a month now," Harry said.

"Oh, well…gosh, I feel so bad not telling Ron, but if you don't want him to know, I won't breathe a word to him. But I'm warning you two, this won't stay secret for long. Something's going to slip, and the repercussions might be worse because you've kept it hidden for so long.

"But tell me," Mrs. Weasley said, "how are things between you two and Ron? You seemed awfully tense when we picked you up from the station yesterday." With this invitation, Harry and Hermione helped explain what had been occurring with Ron over the past month. Hermione told her of the encounters in the prefect's bathroom and the Common Room, while Harry told her about Ron's reactions to the rumors that had been spreading. Mrs. Weasley grew visibly more concerned with each story.

"I can see why you haven't told Ron," she said. "He is very temperamental, but Harry, I wouldn't keep this secret for too long. If you still want to be friends with Ron, you'll have to tell him at some point. It's up to you to decide when." Harry felt uncomfortable with the notion of talking to Ron about his relationship with Hermione, so decided to put off telling him as long as possible. But Mrs. Weasley was right, the secret would have to come out. Hopefully it would be on his terms. If Ron found out indirectly, Harry knew their friendship would be over for good.

"Well, thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, and he and Hermione left the living room. When they went to the kitchen, they were surprised to find Ron eating breakfast alone.

"Ron," Harry said, "you were out of bed when I woke up this morning. Why are you eating now?"

"Just wanted to eat alone," Ron said gloomily, and Harry started to feel sorry for him. He must have known he was the outcast at dinner last night; this gesture was to show that he didn't want to be a bother to anyone.

"Hey, Harry," Ron said, "about what happened before the party, I'm really sorry."

"I am, too, Ron," Harry said.

"Ginny was right, I was acting like a real git."

"So you heard us at dinner last night?" Hermione asked.

"Well…yeah, I started hearing voices as soon as I left, so I borrowed an Extendable Ear from Fred and George and…yeah…" Hermione must have felt sorry for Ron, too, because overpowering remorse suddenly came over her.

"I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione said, "really, I am, about everything." Hermione started to cry, and Ron rose from his chair and gave her a hug.

"I'm sorry, too, Hermione," he said, and he started to tear up a bit too. An enormous wave of relief spread over Harry, which completely repressed a nagging thought that these apologies were coming far too easily to be attributed to time healing all wounds.

"I can't believe I let Lavender get in between us like that," Hermione said. "God, I was so selfish."

"You? Selfish? I was the one who wrecked the whole friendship. You were willing to give me another chance," Ron said.

"Who cares?" Harry said, and Ron and Hermione looked at him as if they'd forgotten he was in the room. "It's over now. No more jealousy, no more anger, right? It's all water under the bridge?"

"Yeah, I reckon so, mate," Ron said. Harry soon joined them in an embrace, feeling that this holiday break might turn out to be the best one of all.

Mrs. Weasley, who was watching them in the hallway, smiled to herself, then returned unnoticed to her knitting.


	15. The Greatest Feeling in the World

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 15: The Greatest Feeling in the World

Now that everyone had finally apologized, things should have felt better for Harry and Hermione. Ron was now on speaking terms with both of them, and the three friends were perfectly friendly once again. But now Harry and Hermione felt enormous guilt for keeping their relationship a secret to Ron, who had just begun to finally trust them again.

Unfortunately, the two of them could not find time for a private word. Things were so hectic at the Burrow that there was hardly enough time in the day to breathe.

Sunday and Monday, the 22nd and 23rd, were devoted to cleaning the house and the yard. Yard work was closely supervised by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, so that they could keep an eye out for threats around the area. It reminded Harry that outside of Hogwarts, there was a war occurring, and it made him feel uneasy.

Harry had another dream about Lord Voldemort, only this time Ron was held against his will. The overall message was the same, but Harry still awoke in frustration at not being able to block it out. He talked to Ron and Hermione the following morning. It saddened them, but they could not do much to help Harry other than to remind him how important it was to practice Occlumency.

"It's hard to clear my mind," Harry said, curbing his frustration so as not to shout at his friends, "when there's so much going on right now." Harry looked directly at Hermione as he said this, hoping she would understand the implications of this statement. If she did, it didn't show in her face.

Christmas Eve was even more hectic, what with preparations for the dinner. Potatoes had to be peeled, vegetables had to be washed, meat had to be seasoned, and everything had to be coordinated so that it was all hot when it was served. Even with the aid of magic, cooking such an elaborate feast was still a nightmare. Fred and George only made things worse by causing utensils to fly into each other and upending dishes only to catch the food before it hit the ground. More than once, Mrs. Weasley chased them out of the kitchen, beating them over the head with oven mitts.

Yet, somehow, as if the food had a mind of its own, everything came together for the feast. Harry, Hermione, seven Weasleys, Fleur, and Remus Lupin all sat down outside after the three eldest had cast all sorts of protective spells around the yard. The food was absolutely delicious, but Harry's mind was so preoccupied that he could only enjoy it so much. Realizing he desperately needed to talk to someone, he asked Lupin if he could speak with him inside while the others were starting to eat dessert, which included flaming pudding, cranberry pie, and Harry's favorite: treacle fudge.

Lupin consented and followed Harry into the deserted living room.

"Thanks, Professor—"

"Harry, please. You can call me Remus."

"Um…all right, Remus. Things have been so crazy around here I haven't had a chance to talk to anyone, and there's so much going on."

"It's all right, Harry. What's upsetting you?"

"Well…the dreams with Voldemort have started to come back. Just like last year."

"Good lord. Have you been practicing Occlumency?"

"Yes!" Harry said, frustration billowing once again, "but it hasn't helped! I just can't seem to master it, and I keep watching my friends die at his hands. He's taking advantage of me, Remus. He's planting threats in my head while I'm asleep."

"Harry, please, I need you to listen for a moment," Lupin said calmly, which cooled Harry off, "Do you remember when you spent all that time with me trying to learn the Patronus Charm?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember how frustrated you were when you could not keep the boggart Dementor at bay?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"But what?"

Harry saw where this was going. "I eventually got the knack of it."

"'Got the knack of it?' Harry, you're the most skilled Patronus caster I've ever seen! You can do anything you set your mind to!" Harry still looked dismayed, and Lupin sighed.

"Harry, I wish I could help you, believe me. But Occlumency is very difficult to teach. Nobody can help you shut your mind, so you have to be able to improve on your own. I know you tire of hearing that, but it's the best anyone can do for you."

"Okay, Remus."

"Now, I sense there's far more going on than just those dreams. Let's see, what could be troubling a sixteen-year-old mind…? Aha! I know…are you having any trouble with girls, Harry?"

All Harry could think was that Lupin had hit it on the nose. Sure, the trouble was not any fault of the girl's, but it was every other student at Hogwarts who was causing him grief, and sadly, Ron was still causing the most. Harry still felt enormously guilty about seeing Hermione and not telling his best friend.

But after Mrs. Weasley had fished it out of him a few days ago, Harry realized how relieved he felt after talking about it. So, even though it was a bit awkward, Harry told Lupin everything, including the recent fights and even the midnight rendezvous. Harry's cheeks flushed while revealing so much intimate detail, but after James and Sirius, Lupin was the closest thing he had to a living father.

"Well…that is something…" Lupin was still trying to digest all that Harry had told him.

"Harry," he said after composing his thoughts, "it seems what you have with Hermione is quite special. You two seem to make each other very happy. I have to say, though, that having sex so soon in the relationship was very risky. If you two hadn't been so close for so long, that intimacy could have backfired on you. I'm just relieved that didn't happen.

"As far as the rumors go, it's best for you to ignore them. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that; you must be so used to rumors by now. Just make sure to remind Hermione if they start to get to her."

"Don't worry about that, Lupin. She's been handling the rumors better than I have."

"Splendid. As for your recent fighting with Ron, it looks like that's come to an end for now. But keeping this a secret from your best friend…I understand the motivation, Harry, believe me. But if Ron has feelings for Hermione as you say he does, and he finds out from somebody else that you two are together, it will take a very long time for him to forgive you. You're better off coming clean with him as soon as you can, and here is the best place to do it, not Hogwarts."

"Well, Hermione and I talked to Mrs. Weasley, and she said the same thing. I just don't think I have the heart to tell him."

"I know it will be tough, Harry, but you will feel relieved after you tell him. Only then will your friendship truly be healed, and Harry, that friendship you have is far more important than any girlfriend, even if it's Hermione. You may find very soon that your friendship with Ron will save your life." Harry could not ignore Lupin's logic, but he was emotionally torn. He was convinced that, however Ron found out, he would once again be furious with Harry and refuse to talk to him. But keeping the relationship a secret was placing enormous pressures on him. There was only one way, it seemed, for Harry to end this emotional conflict.

"Can you tell him, Remus?"

"What?"

"Can you tell Ron about…about us?"

"No, Harry, I'm afraid it has to come from you and Hermione. If I tell him, Ron will wonder why you weren't courageous enough to tell him to his face. No, you have to take responsibility for yourself, Harry. And don't put all the burden on Hermione, either. It will be far easier if you tell him together."

"I don't think I can, Remus."

"Well, I can't force you to do anything, Harry. All I can ask is that you consider what I've said very carefully before you make a decision. But I am confident, Harry, that you will do what's right. It's what you've done your entire life."

"Well, thanks for the advice. I really appreciate it."

"Your welcome. Let's see if there's any treacle fudge left."

…

That night, Harry was still indecisive about whether to confess to Ron, but he was determined to follow Lupin's other advice. He tried as hard as possible to clear his head that night so that Lord Voldemort wouldn't penetrate his dreams again. And this time, Harry somehow managed it. He spent his night sleeping dreamlessly, and when he woke up, he felt as if he'd given himself his own Christmas present.

Then he remembered he had a host of other presents waiting for him.

Among the haul this year was a jumper with a Golden Snitch from Mrs. Weasley, a box of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes from the twins, and a package of maggots from Kreacher. Harry had to prefer the maggots to Ron's gift from Lavender, which was a necklace that had the words "My Sweetheart" engraved on it. Ron was utterly horrified at the gift, which made Harry think about the nature of his relationship with Lavender. Clearly, they did not seem to know each other well, or Lavender would have gotten Ron something much less…well…girly, to say the least. If that were the case, then maybe Ron didn't have very strong feelings for her.

Then Harry wondered what would happen if they broke up. Did Ron still have feelings for Hermione? If so, would he try to act on them? Harry remembered Lupin's advice, and he realized that if Ron asked Hermione out, the situation would be dire. Telling Ron about their relationship at that moment would be like stabbing him in the heart when it was at its most vulnerable.

Harry, realizing how paranoid this all sounded, shrugged off the thought. Instead, he laughed as Ron shoved the necklace under his pillow. Harry teased Ron by threatening to tell Fred and George of the gift.

Harry had a gift from Hermione in his pile, but thought it best to slip it aside and open it in private. If it was anything like Harry's gift, then it was far too intimate to be opened publicly.

The rest of the day was pleasant enough, except for the strange appearance of Percy Weasley, who was accompanied by none other than Rufus Scrimgeour, the current Minister of Magic. Harry reluctantly took a walk with the Minister, but the walk turned ugly when he asked Harry to become sort of an inspirational symbol for the Ministry of Magic. Harry refused boldly, saying that his alliance was with Professor Dumbledore and that he was not ready to forgive the Ministry after what Dolores Umbridge had done to him last year.

At the end of the day, Harry was in his room with Ron. He waited for him to fall asleep, then hid under the Invisibility Cloak with his present from Hermione. Harry opened the present in the fading light, and inside was…a book. Harry, laughing at how typical this was, almost threw it aside without opening it. However, the book had no title, so obviously it wasn't a new textbook and it probably wasn't even a planner. Harry opened the book, and inside was a collection of notes and pictures.

Harry started to skim through the pictures, and his heart warmed. They were all pictures of him and Hermione over the years. Most of them inevitably included Ron, but there were a few with the two of them alone. Harry remembered that she had taken some of the most recent ones just before leaving for break. Harry had asked why, but Hermione had pretended not to hear him. Clearly, this was a work of effort.

Harry kept flipping through the book, and he was surprised to see that a few of the pictures were quite personal. Hermione must have taken them in the privacy of her bed, because there she was, undressing herself in front of Harry's eyes. Harry was instantly reminded of some magazines he had recently pilfered from Dudley's room, only the moving pictures of his world were far more potent. Harry was glad he had waited to open his gift privately.

Finally, Harry flipped back over to the front. On the inside cover was note on scarlet parchment, which differed from the white parchment used in the rest of the book. Harry read this note to himself.

_12/20/1996_

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you had the sense to wait until you were alone to open this gift. I've been working on it ever since we officially started "dating," or whatever you call what we're doing. I've included a few notes I've written to you and also pictures of us._

_You'll be surprised at what you find in here! Some of the notes I wrote a while back, before I even knew I had feelings for you. It was interesting for me to read them to myself now, as there are little hints that suggest how I might be feeling. You might find this less than exciting, but I think it's fascinating!_

_Obviously, most of the pictures in here are with Ron. I know things have been ugly with him lately, but these pictures still make me smile, so I included them all. And, keep your eyes open, I included some other pictures I hope you'll enjoy all to yourself…_

_Well, have a very merry Christmas, and remember that I love you very much and I can't wait to lie in your arms again. It is, quite honestly, the greatest feeling in the world._

_Yours,_

_Hermione Granger_

The letter was clearly dated, but it still rang true, and Harry was very happy when he went to sleep that night. He dreamed of him and Hermione, relaxing in paradise, with Lord Voldemort nowhere in sight.


	16. I've Never Loved You More

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 16: I've Never Loved You More

"It's wonderful. I absolutely love it." Harry was speaking to Hermione about his Christmas present.

It was Boxing Day, and the two of them finally had some much-needed privacy. Fred and George had set off some of their Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs in the house near Ron and Ginny. Mrs. Weasley, who had come to see the smoldering remains of the kitchen, had ordered all four of them to clean up. Ron and Ginny had of course protested, having taken no part in it, but the firecrackers that had been planted in their pockets was incriminating enough.

Harry and Hermione, who had of course been nowhere near the kitchen at the time, were free to take a stroll in the village. The two of them looked very respectable in their Muggle attire, and they went unnoticed through the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.

They did not, however, look like Harry and Hermione. Mr. Weasley had pilfered the hairs of a couple who lived in the village before they went on holiday, and Harry and Hermione were now toting Polyjuice Potion inside some travel mugs. As long as they drank some on the hour, they would not be antagonized by any of Voldemort's followers.

"I'm so glad you liked it, Harry," Hermione responded. "Thank goodness you had the sense to open it in private."

"About that," Harry said, "what if somebody else decides to open it?"

"I charmed it so that to anyone else, it will look like a blank diary," Hermione said. "However, if you held it and someone looked over your shoulder…that's a different matter."

"It never ceases to amaze me how clever you are."

"Oh, thanks," Hermione said, blushing slightly. "It was nothing, really. I stumbled upon it in the library, around the same time I was looking for that Spermicidal Hex. Teenage girls use it, mostly, to keep their diary entries private. Kid's stuff, really."

"Yeah, sure," Harry said.

"Oh, and I absolutely _loved_ what you gave me," Hermione said, smiling broadly.

"I can tell," Harry said, "You're wearing it." Harry had wanted to get something from Hogsmeade, but after the curse on Katie Bell, the visits had been cancelled. Harry hadn't dared to sneak out of the castle to go there, as he would have had to answer bothersome questions when he purchased something. In desperation, Harry had mailed Fred and George for a catalog from a store at Diagon Alley that sold jewelry. He hadn't specified which girl he was buying a gift for.

They'd mailed back a catalog from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, nothing else. Harry had initially been dismayed. He'd considered purchasing a Punching Telescope for a laugh, but when he perused the catalog he noticed a section with very nice jewelry. Harry had picked out a beautiful silver necklace in the shape of a heart—much nicer than the one Ron had received from Lavender. He'd selected the item and mailed it back to Fred and George along with the money needed to purchase it.

By the time Harry had made the purchase, it was too late to mail the necklace to Hogwarts. Fred and George had instead given Harry the necklace in person, the day after he had arrived at the Burrow. They had told him again that they would not ask which girl would get that necklace, but had thrown in roguish winks.

Hermione now wore the necklace, which dazzled brilliantly in the bright sunshine.

"So you really got this from their joke shop?" she asked.

"Well, it was in the catalog they'd sent me," Harry said.

"Harry, we were in there, remember? I definitely don't remember seeing a section on jewelry."

"Maybe because you were sporting that black eye." Hermione slapped him in the arm, but Harry just laughed.

"I almost got you one," Harry said.

"You almost got me a Punching Telescope?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, for a laugh. Good thing I looked in the catalog first."

"You're an ass."

"Hey! I didn't actually get it! Then again, you never know what you'll get for your next birthday…"

"That's not till September. And _you'd_ better watch out next time you open a gift from me."

"My birthday's not till July!"

"Maybe I'll get Ron a Punching Telescope then. See how he likes it when I'm laughing at his black eye."

"Fine. You get him the telescope, I'll buy the Bruise Removal Paste."

"Absolutely not. He'll have to buy it himself. Let him live with a black eye for a few days." Harry and Hermione chuckled. They walked past a small shop whose shelves were bare from all the holiday shopping. The proprietor was sitting in a rocking chair on the porch.

"Hey! James! Jean! Thought you two were in France for the holiday!"

"Came back this morning," Harry said, "but we reckon we'll go up to Scotland for a few days afterward."

"All right then. Say hi to Norah while you're up there, and tell her I'm sorry for cheating on her!"

"Will do," Hermione said. She and Harry started to hurry off.

"Oy, Jean, when did your hair get so dark?" Harry looked at Hermione's hair, and was shocked to see it turning brown from Jean's blonde hair. James's hair was black, so Harry hadn't had the same problem. The two of them hurried off after Hermione stammered out a quick farewell to the proprietor, then they quickly took a drink of Polyjuice Potion. It tasted wretched, and they had to keep from vomiting, but Hermione's hair returned blonde.

"That was close," Hermione said.

"Has it already been an hour? We're losing track of time."

"I'll keep an eye on the time from now on so we're not caught off guard again." Hermione checked the time while Harry thought of the names of their alter-egos.

"Mr. Weasley never told us the names of our alter-egos," Harry said, "He said we'd be surprised to hear them."

"Yeah, they have our middle names."

"Damn it! You couldn't let me figure it out for myself?"

"Well, I didn't know you intended to!"

"You're such a know-it-all, Hermione," Harry said with a smile. Hermione faked a look of great sadness and refused to hold his hand.

"Oh, come on, you know I'm just teasing you," Harry said.

"Yeah, and I'm returning the favor," Hermione said, moving her hand out of Harry's reach.

"Fine," Harry said, letting his hand go slack. They continued to walk, and soon Hermione took Harry's hand.

"Couldn't resist?" Harry asked.

"Shut up."

"Hey, what do you think of Ron apologizing? I never got the chance to ask you." Hermione thought about this for a minute, then shrugged her shoulders.

"It seemed genuine, and he was perfectly friendly after that. Do you think he knows?"

"What, about us?"

"Yeah. I mean, we found him sitting in the kitchen after we talked to Mrs. Weasley."

"Hermione, he still thinks I'm single. We joked about him and Lavender trying to hook me up with Parvati."

"That doesn't mean he doesn't know! Maybe he thinks you don't want to talk about it."

"Come on, Ron would tell me if he knew."

"I suppose, but I just feel really guilty about keeping it from him," Hermione said.

"You're right. I feel the same way."

"It's not fair what we're doing to him," Hermione said, "you know, leaving him in the dark."

"I know, but I mean, he's with Lavender. I think about them, and I feel a bit less guilty."

"I don't. He hates her."

"What? How do you know?"

"I see them together, and I can just tell. He's just going through the motions with her, Harry. I think he still likes me…"

"Well, he needs to dump Lavender and ask you out if that's what he feels."

"And then what? I tell him 'Sorry, but I've been going out with Harry since November and we never bothered to tell you'? How do you think he'll take that?" Hermione was right. Waiting till then to tell him would break his heart. He'd never talk to them again.

"I'll make you a deal," Harry said, "if Ron ever tells me he wants to break up with Lavender, I'll let him know."

"What if he breaks up with her without talking to you first?"

"He won't, Hermione. He'll wait for me to convince him it's the right idea."

"Are you sure?"

"He talked to me before asking her out, I can tell you that much."

"Really? I thought they just started snogging after that Quidditch match."

"Well…he talked to me before that. Not sure if he ever actually asked her out, but that's beside the point."

"All right, fine. You've got a deal." The two of them sat on a bench, taking in the air.

"It's really warm today," Hermione said.

"Yeah, much better than yesterday."

"Hey, Harry?" Hermione asked. "How have your dreams been?"

"Better. I talked to Profess—I mean, Remus—about them, and they've been better ever since."

"That's wonderful, Harry! I knew you'd master Occlumency eventually."

"Well, if only I figured it out sooner. Maybe then…" Harry started to cry. It felt weird to still be saddened by it, even though it happened six months ago. Hermione asked no questions, though. She just gave Harry a hug and let him rest on her shoulder. Harry felt embarrassed to be so sad in public, then he remembered he didn't look like Harry at all.

"Harry, that wasn't your fault," Hermione said. "You and I both know that Bellatrix cast that spell."

"I don't feel guilty anymore, Hermione," Harry said, "but it still hurts…"

"It's not okay, Harry, what she did to him. But it's still okay for you to be sad. God, I don't know what I would do if I lost my father. You've handled this so well, Harry."

"Sirius wasn't my father…" Harry choked.

"He was as good as. Harry, you really inspire me. You've been through so much torment, and you've come out the other side and you remain the strongest, kindest, most caring person I know. Don't you realize how much courage that takes? Gosh, I think about all that now, Harry, and I realize I've never loved you more than I do right now." Tears still streaked down Harry's face, but he was smiling now.

"Thank you, Hermione. I've never loved you more either."

…

They returned to the Burrow just as the Weasley children finished restoring the kitchen. They welcomed the two of them back wholeheartedly, and then Fred and George, noticing the necklace Hermione wore, dragged Harry off for a private word.

"So," Fred said after they released Harry's arms.

"Though we knew as soon as you wrote us," George continued.

"We couldn't help but notice who was wearing that necklace," Fred added.

"So our suspicions were confirmed," George appended.

"And we want all the juicy details," Fred concluded.

"Absolutely not," Harry said, and the twins shared equal looks of dismay.

"What?"

"Not fair."

"Why not?"

"That's private," Harry said, "and I hope you didn't tell anyone else."

"Oh, we wouldn't dare," Fred said.

"We didn't breathe a word," George said.

"We might have made a sly hint or two," Fred said.

"We announced it to the entire village," George said. Harry looked horrified.

"No, but seriously, Harry, we wouldn't tell anyone without your permission. We understand," Fred said.

"Thanks, guys. That really means a lot."

"You're welcome. Now, cough up the Galleons." Harry laughed, fished into his wallet, and paid Fred and George three Galleons apiece for setting off the firework distraction earlier.

"Thank you," George said.

"Always knew you were a good man," Fred added.

"Well, we weren't sure until you gave us the money for the joke shop," George concluded.

"Hey, it's the least I can do," Harry said. "Oh, here," Harry offered them a few more Galleons.

"What are these for?" George asked.

"I want a Punching Telescope."

…

A few days after Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny returned to Hogwarts, the real James and Jean returned home from their stay in France. They went to visit old Seamus, the proprietor of their favorite convenience store.

"Hey! You're back at last!" Seamus greeted them. "So, how was Scotland?"

"What? We didn't go to Scotland," James said.

"Eh? What's that? But you stopped by on Boxing Day, telling me you were going there."

"We were in Paris on Boxing Day," Jean said. "Are you all right, Seamus?"

"Oh, never better," Seamus said. "I just want to know who the devil it was I spoke with on Boxing Day…"


	17. Paisley Pajamas

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 17: Paisley Pajamas

Now that school was back in session, the students were jolted out of their holiday stupors into loads of new homework. Harry and Hermione were no exception. They had so much work the first week back that they didn't have time for their weekly rendezvous.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, "but Arithmancy's killing me at the moment. I just _have_ to catch up tonight, but I swear I'll make it up to you!"

Harry was dismayed; he had worked like a dog to catch up on all his homework that Saturday. Then he wondered if Hermione had waited to tell him for that exact reason. It wasn't a total waste, however. He was starting to schedule more and more Quidditch practices, as the Hufflepuff match seemed alarmingly closer than it did before the holiday break. Even though the match had been scheduled unusually late, around mid-March, Harry realized he had been lackadaisical about practicing and was trying to make up for it now.

"Harry," Dean said, clutching his chest and breathing heavily, "can we call it a night?" Dean, who was subbing for the indisposed Katie Bell, wasn't the only one who looked tired. Ron was bruised from all the Quaffles he'd taken in the chest. Coote and Peakes, the Beaters, looked as if their faces had been mashed in by the Bludgers. Only Ginny, who possessed remarkable endurance, and Harry himself looked prepared to continue practicing.

"All right, everyone, you're free to go if you're tired. I'll clean up tonight." Five of the players sighed in relief and flew down to the ground to change. Harry was about to join them, but Ginny hadn't descended an inch.

"You're still up for practicing?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"Of course, and so are you, Harry."

"Well, I guess so, but what can we do with just two people?"

"Practice Seeking, of course. I need to be sharp in case something happens to you."

"Ginny, I'm fine."

"Harry, you're a great Seeker, but you have an unnerving habit of finding ways to miss matches. Detentions, suspensions, injuries—"

"All right, all right. I see your point. I'll get the Snitch and light it so we can see." Night had fallen fast, and Harry could barely see the chest of Quidditch balls on the ground when he landed. He could certainly hear it, though, with all the racket the Bludgers were making. He found it, opened it, took the practice Snitch, and lit it. The little golden ball glowed just brightly enough for the two of them to see it from afar. Harry returned to the air carrying the ball.

"All right, Ginny. Do you have your wand on you?"

"No, unfortunately. Why?"

"I was going to say we should light them and put them in our pockets so we can see each other and avoid crashing."

"Oh, well, I can go get my wand. It's in the locker room."

"Nope, it's fine. I can get it from here. _Accio Ginny's Wand!_" The maple wand flew from the depths of the locker room. Ginny flew over and caught it.

"Well, that's a good start," Harry said. The two lit and pocketed their wands, and Harry released the Snitch.

The ball instantly shot away from the two Seekers, as it was charmed to do. Harry and Ginny lowered themselves over their brooms and launched after it. Harry soon left Ginny behind, as he was flying the far superior broom, but neither of them could gain a lead on the ball. As it flew, it made gold streaks in the air due to the lighting spell Harry had used. This actually made it harder to find the Snitch, as it was prone to swoop around in circles and its exact position was difficult to track.

Harry suddenly saw a crimson blur shoot in front of him, and realized that Ginny was trying to block him. He swooped down to avoid her and took off in a different direction, as the Snitch had suddenly changed positions. Harry saw it twinkle flirtatiously near the tall goalpost, and he aimed his broom and shot forward in a push to snatch it.

Suddenly, to his astonishment, Ginny caught the Snitch from the opposite side and rose quickly to avoid colliding head-on into Harry.

"How did you do that?" Harry asked when they slowed to a halt.

"Remember you thought I was blocking you?" Ginny asked. "I didn't intend that at all. I saw the Snitch a good ten seconds before you did."

"That's insane…" Harry thought.

"Come off it, Harry. Just because you've got a near perfect record as Seeker doesn't mean you can't be beaten once in a while."

"Okay, fair enough. It looks like you're set in case something weird happens to me."

"What, are you tucking in for the night?"

"Yeah, that run really wore me out."

"Really? You don't want to try for a little redemption?" Ginny's smile seemed oddly lascivious to Harry.

"You should quit while you're ahead, Ginny," Harry said.

"Fine. But I want a rematch next practice, and this time you can't hold back."

_I wasn't holding back the first time_, Harry thought, but saying that would accomplish nothing, so he followed Ginny down to the ground.

The two of them changed in separate rooms, obviously, but when Harry had gathered his things to leave he saw Ginny waiting for him with a very tricky smile on her face. Harry had no idea what she could be thinking to make her smirk in such a way.

"How's Hermione?" she asked, and the sneer grew even wider. Harry was starting to see the real reason Ginny had held him back for extra practice.

"Just fine," Harry said. "Really busy," he added quickly.

"So how long have you been dating?" she asked. Harry stopped dead, and he felt as if his stomach had plummeted to his toes.

"How…did you know?"

"I didn't," Ginny said, "but I do now." Ginny let Harry think about that for a moment. Harry soon realized that Ginny must have been hearing the rumors, and, rather than take them at face value, had devised a way to get Harry to admit the truth without realizing it.

"That's very clever," Harry said, furious with himself for giving it away so easily.

"I have my moments," she said. The calculating sneer had given away to a more sullen expression.

"Are you all right, Ginny?" Harry asked. Ginny looked at Harry with a smile on her face. Harry did not notice in the darkness that it was forced.

"Fine, I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, Ginny. That…that means a lot."

"So is she the girl you were starting to like," Ginny asked, "you know, when you talked to me?"

"What? Oh…yeah, she was…is, I mean. Yes."

"All right," Ginny said. After a minute of silence, she continued. "I take it you haven't told Ron."

"No," Harry said.

"Don't blame you there, mate," Ginny said. "I reckon he'd be crushed if he found out. Actually, I'm surprised even _he_ hasn't figured it out by now."

"I don't think he knows," Harry said, "but he definitely suspects."

"He's always been slow on the uptake," Ginny said with a smile. They reached the Entrance Hall.

"Well, I told my friends I'd meet them at the library, so I'll see you later, Harry." Ginny hurried away from Harry, and in the dim torchlight he couldn't see her shaking as she left.

…

"So Ginny knows," Hermione said. They were essentially alone in the Common Room, as Ron had gone to bed immediately after practice. Hermione was scribbling furiously through some Arithmancy problems, while Harry was struggling with yet _another_ essay for Snape. "That had to be awkward."

"Not really," Harry said, "well…a bit, but not as weird as I expected."

"Well, that's good, Harry. I'm relieved."

"Why is that?"

"Well…we talked over the holidays, and she confessed that she couldn't stop thinking about you. I was horrified that she'd start asking me questions, but Mrs. Weasley set us to work so we stopped talking." Harry's stomach now squirmed as if it had been immersed in molasses.

"I hope she's all right," Harry said. "You don't think she'll tell Ron, do you?"

"Oh, no. Ginny said she wouldn't, and she's true to her word, I guarantee it."

"All right, but…I mean, now that she knows, what's the point in not telling Ron?"

"That's what I tried to tell you last week."

"Yeah, I know, but now his entire family knows. His mum, the twins, now Ginny. It just doesn't seem right to keep it from him."

"Fine. Tell him. Be my guest." This seemed an oddly cold response, so Harry was a bit confused.

"What's going on, Hermione? You were the one who was so guilty last week. Now it's like you couldn't care less." Hermione sighed. It looked as if she would have to tell him.

"Harry, you aren't going to like this, but I heard Ron and Lavender having this blazing row the other day."

"What? When was that?"

"That was when you met with Professor McGonagall for some help the other night." This was true, Harry had come in to practice turning a badger into a scarf at her request.

"Okay, but how did _you_ hear it?"

"I…okay, I eavesdropped, but don't mention that again or I'll be boiled in my own cauldron."

"Why would you do that?"

"Harry, I just _had_ to find out what they were arguing about. I've been so worried about him lately."

"Really?"

"Yes, if this relationship ends ugly it'll be that much harder for him to hear about us!"

"So you're not really worried for him. You're worried for us."

"Harry—fine. You're right. I'm selfish."

"Stop it, Hermione. You aren't selfish. But—God—what were they rowing about?"

"Oh! Well…I didn't catch all of it, and it sounded really stupid. Something about a necklace…" Harry's heart froze. They'd been fighting about the necklace Lavender had given Ron for Christmas. Harry couldn't remember if Ron had ever moved it out from under his pillow at the Burrow.

"Anyway, it quickly turned to Lavender tearing into Ron about lack of commitment and all this other nonsense. It doesn't look good for them, Harry."

"Well, the way you put it, it doesn't look good for us either. That's it, I'm telling him now."

"Wait!" Hermione cried, and a few students turned their heads. Harry sat down to avoid making a scene.

"Harry, I think we should both tell him," Hermione said. "I'm sorry it sounded like I was dumping all the responsibility on you."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, "Because I don't mind telling him myself."

"I'm sure. It has to be both of us." Harry smiled.

"Thanks, Hermione."

"You're welcome."

"I'll go get him." Harry got up and walked up the staircase to his dorm. With each step his nerves became more frazzled and questions started popping into his head. How would Ron take it? What if they weren't friends anymore? Should they just start dating publicly? How would the school react? Would they be hounded in the halls? Would they ever be allowed a private moment again? What if Ron hated Harry for it?

The questions ceased when Harry saw Ron lying awake with bloodshot eyes, staring at the ceiling.

"Harry, thank God," he said when he heard Harry walk in. "I need to tell you something—"

"Ron, all right, but first you need to come downstairs with me. Hermione and I want to talk to you."

"Harry, can't that wait?"

"No, it can't," Harry was firm. He had made his decision to tell Ron and if he delayed any longer he was bound to change his mind. To finalize the point, he dragged Ron down the stairs, not caring that his friend was wearing paisley pajamas that were two sizes too small for him. He brought him over to Hermione, ignoring the snickers of younger students at Ron's nightwear.

"What's going on?" Ron asked when he sat opposite Harry and Hermione, who looked sterner than he had ever seen them.

"Ron, we have to make a confession," Hermione said.

"We didn't tell you before because, well, we thought it would be too hard to hear," Harry added. Ron looked completely confused, and it was clear he would be floored by the news.

However, neither Harry nor Hermione could make their mouths form the right words. Their throats became dry as panic struck them.

"They're true!" Harry finally blurted, and Ron was now even more confused.

"What are true?" he asked.

"The rumors," Hermione said, following Harry's lead. "The rumors about us, Ronald."

"The rumors…bloody hell, the rumors!" Ron cried, and now the three were definitely attracting attention from the other Gryffindors. "But that means…"

"Yeah," Harry said, "Hermione and I are dating." Somebody in the room shouted "I knew it!" but otherwise there was total silence. Ron started blubbering, his ears turned fiery red, and his hands were clammy with sweat. Neither Harry nor Hermione had imagined he would be this distraught.

"No…" Ron murmured, "that's impossible…why would…?" Hermione took off her silver necklace and thrust it at Ron. He looked at it with confusion anew, before he could make out the small engraving on the back.

HJP + HJG

"But…why didn't you tell me?" Ron asked, feeling a burning anger begin to take hold.

"Ron," Hermione said, "we were fighting for ages, and with you and Lavender…we just didn't want to hit you with this news."

"Harry, tell me she's lying. Tell me she's Confunded you or something, slipped you Love Potion, anything!"

"I bought that necklace from your twin brothers," Harry said, "You can ask them yourself if you still don't believe me."

"So Fred and George…you told them first…"

"Well, they more or less figured it out for themselves," Harry said.

"So what? I'm the stupid git who couldn't figure it out? Well, don't I look like the fool now!" Ron's rage was frightening; some of the younger students were quivering in the corner.

"Ronald, please," Hermione said, "can't you see why we didn't tell you before?"

"Before? Before when? How long has this been going on?"

"Since November!" Harry shouted.

"So you've been together for two months and you didn't bother to tell your best mate? What's wrong with you?"

"Ronald, I thought you still had feelings about me. I didn't want to—"

"Feelings for _you_? After what you put me through? No way in hell! God, I _trusted_ you! Both of you! I apologized for being an asshole, and look what happens! I find out my so-called 'friends' have been lying to me for months!"

"That's why we're telling you now!" Harry yelled, trying to drown Ron out in a futile attempt to calm him down. "We couldn't bear to keep it a secret any longer. We felt so guilty lying to our best friend."

"Well, you don't need to feel guilty anymore, Harry. I'm done. Done." Ron stormed back up the staircase, seeming to leave behind some lingering rage. The air in the room felt stifling.

The other students would not stop staring at Harry and Hermione; they were waiting for a reaction.

"There, you can stop talking behind our backs now, huh?" Harry said, "Now you know. Nothing new to see here. It's over." The students waited for Harry to say something else, but returned to studying and talking when it was apparent he was done speaking. Harry turned away to see Hermione crying fitfully. Harry gave her a hug and rubbed her back.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. Really, we shouldn't have told him."

"No, you were right, Harry. We did the right thing. It's over now."

"What, you mean—?"

"No, I mean all the secrets and hiding. It's over, and that's a huge relief."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" Hermione couldn't answer, and so Harry continued to hold her, feeling just as sad as the hot tears streaming down Hermione's cheeks.


	18. Revoltingly Bad at Knitting

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 18: Revoltingly Bad at Knitting

Given that news at Hogwarts traveled faster than someone Apparating, the entire school seemed to know about Harry and Hermione by breakfast the next morning. The two of them went down to the Great Hall together, without Ron, and nearly every student turned to watch them walk in. Harry had decided to walk in together, as if nothing had happened, and the two of them walked past the other House tables as if nothing was happening.

This was fine. When they passed two of the three tables, the students merely stared and then whispered to their friends when they were out of earshot. However, one House behaved quite differently, and I shouldn't have to tell you which House that was. They jeered, made puckering faces, and snickered as Harry and Hermione moved along without looking at them.

However, Harry noted that one sneering voice was missing from the taunting. Draco Malfoy had made no jeering comment, when usually he would have been the one leading the rest of his table. Harry turned briefly when he sat down, and Malfoy looked deathly pale and quite honestly about to vomit. His breakfast was laid in front of him, untouched.

Ron Weasley was one of the only students in the Hall who had refused to look at Harry and Hermione. He was engaged in a conversation with Lavender, though he didn't look very happy talking to her either. Hermione rolled her eyes watching them talk.

"What a baby," she whispered to Harry. Harry, however, understood Ron's anger to some extent. Finding out your best friends were lying to you for months was not something Harry would have taken lightly.

Harry knew better than to say this to Hermione, so he merely nodded and began to eat his breakfast. Ginny sat next to him a short time later, and Harry was actually glad to have her company. At least one Weasley at this school was still on his side.

"I take it he's found out," Ginny said. Harry and Hermione nodded.

"The whole school knows by now," Hermione said, "judging by the reception we got when we walked in."

"It'll only get worse," Harry said, reminded of Neville's warning about the Slytherins making buttons.

Unfortunately, Harry was right. Later on, when they had Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape found some way to bring the relationship up in conversation. He had just asked a very complicated question concerning the birth of a Dementor; even Hermione had to sort out the answer in her head before her hand shot up about two seconds later.

"Well, Miss Granger, a rather slower response than usual. Could it be that your thoughts are elsewhere…? Perhaps being so close to Mr. Potter has clouded your reasoning…" Harry and Hermione were far too used to Snape's bullying to be bothered. Since the entire class turned their heads to the two of them, no one noticed Ron's ears turn bright red.

No other teacher mentioned anything in class, as was professional. Professor Slughorn might have asked Harry for a brief word about it, as he admired both him and Hermione. However, he was avoiding Harry ever since Harry had asked him about Horcruxes. Dumbledore had met with him their second day back from break and implored Harry to find a memory Professor Slughorn had about discussing Horcruxes with Tom Riddle. Harry was actually rather relieved that Professor Slughorn was refusing to speak to him, though Hermione was nagging him to try to make amends.

"Look, Hermione, I really don't want him to start asking about us. It's easier this way."

"But Harry, if Dumbledore wants you to get this memory, then it must be really _really_ important!"

"I'll think of something," Harry said in a throwaway manner, and Hermione realized fighting would get them nowhere.

The two of them had decided to have no more midnight rendezvous until buzz about them died down. But, when Harry walked past the Slytherin table one evening, he was sure that buzz would not die down soon. Malfoy was, surprisingly, missing from the table, but practically every other Slytherin was sporting a green button that was all too familiar. Crabbe was the one to introduce Harry to them; he marched right in front of him, and Harry knew he would not be allowed past until he heard him out.

"So, Potter, we've had these made 'specially for you and Granger." Crabbe pointed at the bright green button, the words on which Harry remembered from two years ago.

POTTER STINKS…

The ellipsis was knew, but those two words were in the exact same font. Harry shook his head and made to move aside, but Crabbe stopped him.

"Wait a minute, Potter, I'm not finished. Look what's on t'other side." Crabbe tapped the button, and the green swirled away to be replaced by a bright blue, which was knew. Harry read the words on this button and sighed.

BUT GRANGER SUCKS

"Clever, aren't they?" Crabbe asked with a stupid grin on his face.

"Yep, how brilliant. Whoever thought of that one deserves a medal." Harry was allowed to walk past now, but not without Crabbe giving him a hard shove with his shoulder. Harry looked back at the Slytherin table, and the students all pressed their buttons so that they turned bright blue.

Harry sat next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table. She was busy reading an Ancient Runes text, trying to absorb all the information she had just learned in class that afternoon.

"Did you see the—?"

"Yes, Harry, Crabbe offered quite the introduction. They're quite childish, really, and I'm glad to see none of the other Houses have any buttons." This was true. These new buttons were not nearly as popular as the ones from two years ago. However, they still bothered Harry, as they were a sign that he had not finished getting grief from other students about his love life.

Suddenly, Harry felt a tap on the shoulder. He turned, and Ginny was pointing toward the staff table.

"Harry, look," she said. Harry turned to the table, and he noticed Professor McGonagall peering at the Slytherin table wearing her reading glasses. Apparently, she had read enough, as she stood up and marched briskly to the table, her lip as thin as ever.

"I don't think you'll need to worry about those atrocious buttons any longer," Ginny said.

"I doubt it," Harry said, "They didn't do anything about it two years ago." Ginny shook her head disapprovingly when Professor McGonagall returned to her chair, the buttons still quite visible on the robes of the Slytherins.

"Almost made me wish Umbridge was here," she said, "She wouldn't have tolerated such nonsense."

Harry looked at Ginny in surprise. "Are you kidding? Umbridge would be the one passing the buttons to the entire school!"

…

Things with Ron had not improved since their falling out. As such, Ron was the second-most miserable student at Hogwarts, just behind Malfoy, who was pale beyond belief and looking quite gaunt. His workload was a problem once again, only this time it seemed Lavender wasn't as keen to help him. Things between them had been considerably less passionate since the falling out, which was only making his stresses worse.

The only person he could talk to now was Ginny, who relayed all of the information back to Harry at his request.

"Ginny, somehow in that one night I lost everything," Ron said one evening in the Common Room, "Harry, Hermione, and now Lavender, too."

"Well?" Ginny asked, "how does that make you feel?" Ron grimaced, but continued to talk.

"Well, Lavender," Ron shook his palm to show that his feelings about Lavender were inconclusive, "As for Harry and Hermione, I'm still scathing mad about it. I mean, I thought I could trust them, and look what I find out."

"It wasn't just you, Ron," Ginny said, "they didn't tell anybody. I had to trick Harry into admitting it to me."

"When did that happen?" Ron asked.

"When we were practicing late one night. It wasn't long before you knew."

"Well, that really blows. Harry tells you before he tells me. Wonderful…"

"Ron, he didn't tell me. I tricked him into admitting it by pretending I knew about it when I didn't! Harry gave himself away, is all."

"Yeah, well, guess that makes me pretty stupid. All this time, and I had no idea."

"Ron, it doesn't matter. All that matters is when you're going to get over yourself and apologize to your friends for acting like an ass."

"_They_ should be apologizing to _me_, Ginny, for fucking around behind my back!"

"You're so vulgar, Bilius."

"_Don't_ call me Bilius!"

"God, don't have a hen. You're as bad as Mum." Ron said nothing to this. He turned away, having no desire to speak to Ginny anymore.

"Okay, Ron, be as stubborn as you want. You're only making yourself miserable." Ginny walked away, leaving Ron to stew over his frustration alone.

…

Things continued on in this manner until mid-February, when Valentine's Day was just around the corner. A few days before, Lavender asked Ron for a private word and then brought him to an abandoned corridor.

"What's wrong, Lavender?" he asked.

"Ron, I know I overreacted when I found out about Harry and Hermione."

"I know. You got upset because you thought I was jealous and that I wanted Hermione for myself."

"Yes, well, all I focused on was my jealousy. I thought you had stronger feelings for her than for me. Not for one minute did I think that you were upset because your two best friends were sneaking around behind your back."

"What made you change your mind?"

"Your little sister, actually," Lavender said. Ron wanted to kill her for talking to Lavender about him behind his back, but realized she had only been trying to help.

"Look, Ron, I'm sorry I haven't been more supportive. I feel like the worst girlfriend in the world." Ron couldn't help but agree with that, but he gave Lavender a hug instead. He couldn't afford to alienate the closest thing to a friend he had left.

"It's all right, Lavender. I'm sorry about the necklace."

"Oh, that gaudy thing! Please, I'm over that by now. Besides, you don't know what you're getting on Valentine's Day yet." Ron groaned, and Lavender pretended to be deeply offended. This kind of flirtatious playacting would have been cute with the right person. For Ron, though, it was downright painful.

"All right, Lavender, I simply _can't_ wait to see what glorious present you've bought for me."

"Bought? No, silly. I'm making it myself." Ron was now looking forward to the present even less.

…

All the attention that had been given to Harry and Hermione had died down for about two weeks, but with Valentine's Day drawing near, they found that students, mainly Slytherins, were giving them a hard time again.

Students started asking what they would get each other for Valentine's Day. Harry had absolutely no idea what he would do. Jewelry was out, as Harry found out when talking to Ginny, the only girl with whom he could safely discuss a gift for Hermione. Buying candy from Honeydukes was also out; Hogsmeade had been closed all year. And Harry was revoltingly bad at knitting, as he had found out to Ginny's amusement one night.

"Well," Harry said, "at least Hermione has the same limitations that I do."

"Not at all," Ginny said, "she's become quite skilled at knitting. Well, better than you, in any case."

"You swore never to speak of that."

"I swear a lot of things, Harry. That doesn't mean I mean them." Ginny seemed to stare at Harry intently, as if trying to hint something to him. It was lost on Harry.

"How's Dean?" he asked casually, to change the subject.

"Well…a bit off, actually," Ginny said. She and Dean had been dating for a while now, and it seemed they were now on shaky ground. Harry had no idea just how shaky, and Ginny wasn't about to divulge that to him.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

…

With all of the stress laden on Harry—the rumors, the class work, Hermione's gift, and especially Ron's hostility—Harry began to have dreams about Voldemort again. This time Harry was restrained on something, but he couldn't see because he was blindfolded. Suddenly, he heard the cold voice of Voldemort whispering Parseltongue in his ear. It made his spine shiver.

"_Well, it seems everyone knows about you two now, don't they? Poor boy, I don't believe Ron will ever forgive you for that._"

"Shut up. You don't know anything about Ron." Harry suddenly felt a cloth get shoved into his mouth.

"_I don't want any more interruptions. Now, you may not have realized this, but you have already complied with one of my demands. You have severed all ties with that red-headed dolt you call a friend, whether you wanted to or not. Now, it's that Mudblood girl I'm after. Are you still making love to her?_" With this, Voldemort laughed, and the sound made Harry's hands shake. He wanted to scream in rage, but the cloth muffled his sound.

"_Well, I certainly do not need to know that much. All I know is, you're still seeing her, and this needs to stop, Harry, or I will go after her. You think you're safe at Hogwarts, Harry Potter. You're wrong. Hogwarts is not impenetrable, and I know more about the castle than you could ever dream of. And when my followers do penetrate that fortress, I will make sure the Mudblood is one of the first to die._

"_It is up to you, Harry, whether she lives or dies. Can you live with the guilt of knowing that you killed the one you love? If not, then I know you will comply with my request. If you can, then perhaps I have misjudged you, and you can join me as a Death Eater. What a glorious day that would be for me._"

Harry jolted himself awake, clutching his blankets with fury. He didn't know if Voldemort's threats could be carried out. All he knew was, he refused to leave Hermione and he refused to let her die.


	19. One, Three, or a Dozen!

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 19: One, Three, or a Dozen!

Valentine's Day fell on a Friday that year, so festivities were observed on the following day. Hogsmeade would have been an ideal place for some respite, but it was still closed on account of the Katie Bell incident. This left couples few options as far as privacy was concerned.

Harry and Hermione had the most need for privacy, but for them it was the least available. The Room of Requirement was being used whenever they checked, and Harry could not see on the Marauder's Map who was inside. The prefects' bathroom was mysteriously sealed, and this time Harry _could_ see who was inside…Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot. That was clearly out of the question.

Hermione suggested Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, which Harry stamped out immediately. The last thing he needed was Moaning Myrtle watching them, especially _him_.

The best they could do was stay in the Gryffindor Common Room, where tasteful decorations had been put up for the day (nothing as gaudy or obscene as anything Gilderoy Lockhart had dreamed up). Harry kept an eye on the Marauder's Map to see if any other room opened up, but he doubted that would happen anytime soon.

"You know," Harry said to Hermione, "I think Valentine's Day is overrated."

"Why do you think that?" Hermione asked.

"Well, just look at my track record." Last year's disastrous date with Cho Chang had been Harry's only memorable Valentine's Day excursion.

"That's understandable," said Hermione. "Wish things could have gone better this year."

"Believe me, Hermione, they are." Hermione smiled, and she rested her head on Harry's shoulder. Nobody in Gryffindor was giving them a hard time anymore, which was a nice change. They felt far more relaxed around other students than they had for a long time.

Harry glanced at the Map again, and he noticed that Ron and Lavender were suspiciously in their respective dormitories. If Ron hadn't refused to speak to him, Harry would have gone up to find out what was wrong. For them not to be together today was concerning.

"If you'll excuse me for just a moment, Harry, I need to leave for a moment." Harry understood that this meant she needed the loo, so he let her go.

As soon as Hermione had left, over came none other than Romilda Vane, a fourth-year who was obviously smitten with him. She was carrying a box of Chocolate Cauldrons, and she thrust them at Harry, said "Happy Valentine's Day" in a flutter, then returned to her group of friends with legs shaking like jelly. Harry tried to stifle a laugh; she had tried something very similar just before Slughorn's Christmas party. Hermione had warned Harry about Romilda's attempts to slip him Love Potion, and this appeared to be another one.

Harry was about to bring them to his room (and subsequently dispose of them) when Hermione came back and smiled with excitement. She hustled over to Harry and took the box of Chocolate Cauldrons from him.

"Oh, Harry, you shouldn't have!" Hermione said. "I told you you didn't have to get me anything."

"I know, Hermione, but—" Hermione interrupted with a swift kiss on the lips, which temporarily stunned Harry. Then he realized he hadn't just been stunned, he'd lost the use of his voice. He glanced quickly at something moving, and could swear Romilda had just put away a wand. Harry quickly glanced over at the package, which Hermione had already opened, and found a sticker that said "To: Hermione; From: Harry." Suddenly, that foolish attempt to slip him a Love Potion had suddenly turned to a more diabolical scheme.

Harry did all he could to signal Hermione not to eat the Cauldrons, but it was too late. Hermione had already taken a sickeningly large bite. She cherished the chocolate morsel in her mouth, and her eyes bugged open in surprise.

"Wow," she said, "I've had a lot of Chocolate Cauldrons, but this one tastes different somehow. It's almost got a mint flavor, like toothpaste…" Harry became even more alarmed; toothpaste was one of the aromas Hermione smelled in Amortentia. He still seemed unable to speak, and he strangely regained his voice once Hermione had finished the first Cauldron. Harry was ready to march straight at Romilda, but she had left as quickly as if she'd Apparated. The Map showed her moving very quickly through the corridors.

Harry instead tried to warn Hermione what was happening, but she suddenly dropped the second Cauldron, and she was suddenly distraught with worry.

"Harry…?" she asked slowly, as if in a trance, "where is he?"

Harry was surprised; he had assumed Romilda would be the one for whom Hermione pined. That would have been a very strange practical joke, though admittedly it made little sense. Now Harry wondered who "he" could actually be.

"Who, Hermione?"

"Your best friend, of course!" Harry's stomach dropped from beneath him. He quickly realized that Romilda knew how to play dirty.

To stall for time, Harry tried to make up a quick lie.

"I have no idea where Ron is, Hermione. I wish I could tell you…"

"You're a liar!" Hermione shrieked, and the Common Room grew quiet.

"Hermione, let's go talk outside for a minute." Harry grabbed the Map in one hand and Hermione's arm in the other. Harry dragged her out of the Common Room, with her still holding the box of Chocolate Cauldrons.

"Hermione, you need to listen to me," Harry said, trying to get her to focus; she was gazing around the halls, obviously looking for Ron. "You've just eaten a Chocolate Cauldron filled with Love Potion, and you aren't thinking clearly."

"I resent that!" Hermione said, "I've never thought more clearly in my life. Now, where's Ron?" Harry shook her by the shoulders, and Hermione pushed him away. She then saw the parchment in his hand and snatched it.

"The Marauder's Map! Of course…" Harry pulled out his wand and tried to tap it and say "Mischief managed!" but Hermione kept it out of reach.

"Hmm…where is he…his bedroom! Perfect! Dragon Fire!" The last part confused Harry, until he realized that was the password to the Common Room. Hermione threw the box aside and bolted, skipping with glee. Harry grabbed the box and chased frantically after her. The students in the Common Room were astonished, and they instantly tried to sort out the behavior when they had laughed.

Harry was not able to catch up with Hermione. She threw the door open and found Ron skulking in his bed. Ron looked up, and was surprised to see Hermione and even more surprised to see the large smile on her face.

"Ronald!" she cried, and then tackled him onto the bed, giggling. Ron was extremely confused, and he had mixed emotions about the situation. Before Hermione confused Ron even more, Harry marched in, wand out, and shouted "_Levicorpus_!" He held Hermione in midair, in a comfortable position but nowhere near Ron.

"Ron," he yelled amidst cries of "Put me down!" from Hermione, "she's not in her right mind. Someone's fed her Love Potion." Ron was skeptical. Though it certainly was possible, given Hermione's unusual behavior, Ron was still not very trustful of Harry.

"Okay…" he said in a way that agitated Harry. "How so?"

"I got Chocolate Cauldrons from Romilda Vane—you know how much she's obsessed with me—and Hermione ate one before I could stop her! She thought they were for her!" Harry threw Ron the box so he could read the label.

"How do I know the whole thing's a crock?" Ron asked.

"Ron, just listen to her! Hermione, be honest. How do you feel about Ron?" Hermione suddenly stopped screaming and went into a diatribe of how powerful her love of Ron was. Ron's cheeks flushed at hearing it, but at the same time he could tell that it simply wasn't natural for Hermione to suddenly spout such passionate poetry about him.

He fully believed Harry, but suddenly a nasty idea came into his head, one that would give him a little payback and thoroughly embarrass Harry.

"If these Cauldrons are spiked, like you say," Ron said slowly, "then prove it. Eat one, Harry."

"What? That's crazy!"

"Eat one! I won't believe you until you do."

"Fine!" Harry set Hermione on his bed and, cruelly but necessarily, petrified her. He then ate one of the Chocolate Cauldrons, dreading what would happen. Ron was certain nothing would happen, but both he and Harry were beginning to wonder how Love Potion would affect Harry. Soon though, Harry looked at Ron with wild emotion in his eyes.

"I love you, Ronald Weasley," Harry said plainly, as if it were just as obvious as saying the sky was blue. Harry went for Ron, but Ron quickly pulled out his wand and petrified Harry. Harry collapsed onto the floor and hit the front of Ron's bed, so he was apparently not only rigid but unconscious as well.

"That'll leave a mark," Ron said, now ashamed at what he had made Harry do. He decided to find Professor McGonagall so she could sort this mess out.

He found her a short while later, using the Marauder's Map, which Harry had conveniently dropped in his rush for Ron. He explained the situation, and she was completely puzzled.

"Well," she said, still in wonderment about how crazy love-addled teenagers could be, "I suggest you find Professor Slughorn. He will surely know the antidote." So Ron went to see Professor Slughorn instead, and then told him what had happened.

"My word," he said, "I'd think they would be more careful than to accept a stranger's food. All right! Bring them down here, and I'll have the antidote ready when you get here." Ron sighed; he had hoped Professor Slughorn would come up to the dorm instead. He went back to the dormitory and performed the countercurse on the two of them. Harry was still knocked out, but Hermione looked around for a minute, saw Ron, and smiled.

"There's my gorgeous guy," she said, jumping off the bed and throwing herself into his arms. Ron made to push her away, but something deep and sinister told him that it was time to use Hermione's temporary infatuation to his advantage.

"Hermione, I don't know why we didn't realize it sooner," Ron said, "but we're soul mates." Ron felt instant guilt, but that foreign, devilish part of him was brimming with excitement.

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione cried, and she kissed him passionately. For a moment, Ron was whisked away into bliss, but he was grounded back to reality when he heard footsteps. Before he could pry Hermione off of him, Lavender Brown walked into the room. The sight of them made her scream with angry jealousy.

"Get your hands off him, you bitch!" Lavender cried, shoving Hermione away from Ron.

"Lavender, wait, I can explain everything—"

"Shut up, Ron! I'll deal with _you_ in a minute!"

"Ron and I are in love, Lavender!" Hermione cried with a wicked grin on her face, "And there's nothing you can do about it."

"Ron's my boyfriend!" Lavender cried, "and what would Harry think about all this, hmm?" Suddenly, Harry awoke and rubbed his forehead. He wasn't quite sure what was happening.

"Harry!" Lavender cried, "I didn't even see you…do you know what your precious Hermione Granger has been doing? Snogging my boyfriend right under your nose!"

"Ron…is this true?" Harry asked. Ron had no choice but to nod, hoping Harry would understand when Slughorn gave him the antidote.

"How could you, Ron? I thought you and I had something special!" This comment completely threw Lavender for a loop. Ron shook his head miserably, and Hermione had the most vile look of triumph on her face.

"Sorry, Harry," she said, "but Ronald just couldn't resist me."

"Shut your mouth, Hermione! You can't possibly love Ron more than I do! We were meant to be!"

"Keep dreaming, Harry! Ron could never have kids with you! Ron, if you marry me, I swear we'll have sex every night! I don't care how many kids we have, one, three, or a dozen!"

"What's wrong with you?" Lavender asked, "He's my boyfriend!"

"Please," Hermione said, "you two were over before you began—TAKE ONE STEP CLOSER AND I'LL HEX YOU!" Harry had tried to sneak over to Ron, but Hermione now held a wand at him.

"Don't even think about it!" Lavender cried, pointing her wand at Hermione. "Harry's done nothing wrong." Though, Lavender thought, he was acting very queer.

"Keep out of this, Lavender. You only wish you loved Ron as much as I do!" Hermione pointed her wand at Lavender instead. Suddenly, Harry drew his wand at Hermione.

"I'll hex the both of you and have Ron all to myself!" Harry cried.

"I'll make slug juice out of you!" Hermione cried to Harry.

"Ron could never want you, Hermione," Harry said, "not when he's got me!"

"Ron wants a woman, a _real_ woman," Hermione said, clearly to irritate Lavender.

"For God's sake, HE'S MY BOYFRIEND!" Lavender shrieked.

"Whoa!" cried a new voice. Neville had walked into the room. No one had heard him come up the stairs amidst all the shouting.

Ron took the brief pause to make a loud banging noise with his wand. This frightened the other four students, and they turned to Ron in fright (or, for Harry and Hermione, longing).

"If everyone could _please_ sit down, I can explain everything!" Ron shouted.

Hermione tried to speak. "But I love you—"

"SIT DOWN!" Ron yelled, and the other four sat quickly.

"Thank you!" Ron said, "Now, Harry and Hermione have both eaten Chocolate Cauldrons spiked with Love Potion. Both of them are in love with me." Neville, who was sitting next to the box of Cauldrons, had just been reaching for one. He pulled his hand away, as if the box had just made to attack it.

"Harry got knocked out for a while, so Hermione, erm, made her move. She was kissing me when Lavender walked in, and everyone was fighting until you showed up, Neville. That is what happened, and for all the confusion, I'm really sorry!"

"Love Potion?" Hermione asked, "Don't be ridiculous, Ronald. I've loved you all my life."

"Not anymore than I ever did," Harry said.

"That's it." Ron raised his wand and petrified the two of them again.

"Neville, could you _please_ go get Professor Slughorn and bring him up here? I need to talk to Lavender alone." Neville hurried out of the room, eager to leave such a crazy scene behind him.


	20. Stupid Love Triangles

**Harry Potter and the Torrid Affair**

Chapter 20: Stupid Love Triangles

"Ron, they can still hear us," Lavender said. Though Harry and Hermione were both petrified, it was true that they were still conscious. Ron and Lavender left the dorm and decided to talk in the staircase, as they would be able to hear people coming up.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Lavender started beating Ron on the arm.

"HOW—COULD—YOU—CHEAT—ON—ME?" she screamed between punches, "ESPECIALLY—WITH—_HER_?" Lavender started sobbing uncontrollably, her grief tangible in her disheveled hair and the tears splashing down her face.

Ron rubbed his arm, as it was now quite sore. "Lavender, I've already explained—"

"No you haven't! Why'd you let her kiss you, huh?" she asked scornfully, "You could have pushed her away. _Why didn't you_? Answer me, damn you!"

"I-I-I was taken by surprised! She just jumped on top of me just before you came in."

"BULLSHIT!" Lavender screamed, "You shouldn't have let her even come _close_! You had the wand, you could have petrified her or slowed her down or just about anything else! What were you THINKING?" But Lavender already feared the answer. She had feared something like this ever since she'd started dating Ron.

Hermione had never said anything to them, but she had made it obvious just how jealous she was. Had Lavender known how long Hermione had been dating Harry, she might have thought differently. To her, though, Harry and Hermione had only just started dating, and she had carried her frightful suspicions that Hermione wanted Ron up until this point, where it seemed her suspicions had taken a frightful turn.

Now it was apparent that she should have been more worried about _Ron_ wanting _Hermione_.

Ron was, of course, very hesitant in answering, as he was just starting to discover his feelings himself. There was only one reasonable explanation as to why he'd let Hermione kiss him. Telling that to Lavender, though, would clearly end their relationship. And since Hermione had recently told him she was dating Harry, he knew he would probably never win her over.

It made Ron burn with jealousy, thinking about the two of them. Harry had always beaten Ron at everything. He was a better student and a better Quidditch player. He'd been the one to thwart Lord Voldemort so many times. Now, he had beaten Ron to his heart's desire.

"Do you love her?" Lavender asked, biting back tears again.

"What?" asked Ron, playing stupid to buy time.

"DO YOU LOVE HER?" Lavender screamed.

"YES!" Ron retorted, and Lavender shrieked so loudly it almost rivaled a banshee. Tears flowed down her face again, and she whacked Ron as hard as she could in the head and stood up.

"Lavender, wait!" Ron called.

"FUCK YOU!" Lavender yelled, "I've had it! We're over! You hear me? OVER!" And with that, Lavender stormed down the stairs, hoping never to see that red-haired traitor again.

She nearly bowled over Neville and Professor Slughorn on her way down the stairs. She apologized quickly and hurried off, hoping to avoid any questions. Neville shook his head and continued up the stairs, where he saw a miserable Ron waiting for them.

"Are you all right, Ronald?" Professor Slughorn asked. It was the first time Slughorn had addressed Ron, and he was very grateful.

"Not really, but I think I'll manage. They're inside the room."

"Thank you, Ronald. Take care of yourself, son." Professor Slughorn walked past, and Neville gave Ron a reassuring pat on the back before following the professor into the room.

"Dear, dear," Slughorn said, and he unbound Harry and Hermione.

"Where's Ron?" they asked. Neville almost answered, but Professor Slughorn hushed him.

"Ron's gone, but he wants you to drink this." Professor Slughorn gave each of them a flask, which was filled with the antidote to Amortentia. Once Harry and Hermione had drained the flasks, they sunk from their highs and felt discombobulated, but they were thinking clearly again.

"Do you remember what's happened in the past twenty minutes or so?" Slughorn asked. They both shook their heads.

"Neville, if you could please explain to them what happened. I'd best be off. Have rather important business to attend to." Professor Slughorn left, not for any rather important business, but to avoid Harry questioning him again about Horcruxes.

Neville explained all that had happened to Harry and Hermione. If he had been less compassionate, he would have had to keep from bursting into laughter. When he was finished, he watched Harry and Hermione sit, stunned and saddened by what had occurred.

"I wish I was making it all up," said Neville, "but it's all true." Harry and Hermione said nothing.

"Ron's outside, by the way. He looks pretty upset; you should go talk to him." Harry and Hermione nodded. Neville went outside and sent Ron in. Ron collapsed in his bed and groaned.

"We're finished," he said, "Lavender and I. She just dumped me flat."

"I'm…sorry, Ron," Hermione said.

"What? It was your fault!"

"It was Romilda Vane's fault!" Harry said, "Don't blame Hermione for something she couldn't control."

"Harry, please," Hermione said, "It's fine. Ron's right. I should have stopped myself."

"Hermione, you'd just taken Love Potion! You were out of your right mind. As a matter of fact, this is as much Ron's fault as it is anyone's!"

"Excuse me?" Ron asked, trying to defend himself. But then he sighed. "No, Harry, you're right. I let Hermione come on to me."

"Why would you do that?" Hermione asked, but she was smart enough to figure it out without Ron saying a word.

"Hermione, I lied when I said you were a poison to me," Ron said, "I…was angry. I mean, I always wondered whether you liked me or hated me, and when I finally heard the answer, I was so frustrated. I…can't really explain what happened, but I wanted to hurt you the same way you hurt me."

"That's ridiculous, Ron. Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"

"Well…I was scared to," Ron admitted, "I'm ashamed of myself for that, but Lavender was a sure thing at the time, and I didn't want to date you only to find that we were all crazy around each other. But that was just so stupid of me! I'm sorry." Hermione patted Ron on the arm.

"It's all right, Ron." Harry was keeping out of the conversation, holding back his skepticism. He thought Ron was getting off far too easy. After all, hadn't he just kissed his girlfriend?

"Ron, I'm sorry, too," Hermione said, "All those years of putting you through such hell…well, I can imagine now why you would say those things. To tell you the truth, I was afraid you didn't like _me_. So I treated you badly so you wouldn't find out how I felt about you and then reject me. But look! It happened anyway; you rejected me. Karma, I guess.

"I'm also sorry we didn't tell you about us sooner," Hermione added, gesturing to Harry. Harry crossed his arms and glared at Ron, indicating that he was not at all sorry. Hermione gave him an exasperated look, then turned back to Ron.

"You should have known way sooner, but we were afraid about how you would take it."

"Don't worry about that, Hermione. It didn't make much of a difference anyway."

"I guess not…What about you, Harry?" Hermione suddenly snapped, "Aren't you sorry, too?"

"Not at all," Harry said, "Ron, you let Hermione kiss you, _knowing_ she was out of her right mind and _knowing_ she was going out with me! How could you do that to me?"

"Harry, you were conked out, and I thought it was my only shot to see how kissing Hermione felt. Believe me, I regret doing that to Lavender and especially to you, my best friend."

"So what? Don't you get it? I can't trust you anymore, Ron! How do I know you won't start snogging Hermione again the minute my back is turned?"

"Harry," Hermione said, "I would never let that happen—"

"Are you sure? Can you really promise me that?"

"Are you telling me you don't trust me?" Hermione asked, hands dangerously placed on her hips.

"Hermione, you told me how much you loved Ron back in November," Harry said, "That feeling just doesn't vanish into thin air. I can't be sure about you two anymore."

"Harry, for God's sake," Ron said, "I told you I was sorry."

"That's the easiest thing in the world to say," Harry said. "Words are easy."

"Harry, if this is really how you feel then I don't think we can see each other anymore!" Hermione cried in anguish. Harry's anger instantly subsided.

"No, Hermione, I didn't mean that…"

"Well, if you can't trust me, how can we keep dating? God, I can't believe we're having this conversation."

"What?" Harry asked sardonically.

"All those times I kissed you, all those times we slept together"—Ron's mouth fell open at this—"all those times I said I love you, does that mean nothing to you? Harry, you know I'm the most trustworthy person you know. Why can't you forgive what happened?"

"Because I still can't trust _Ron_!" Harry spat, "and…well…" Harry had been deflated. What Hermione had said made far too much sense. He now felt so ashamed of himself for snapping at Hermione, when in reality it was Ron with whom he was more angry.

Ron finally shut his mouth and recomposed himself.

"Harry, I don't know what to say," Ron said, "We've been best mates for life. If you can't trust me, well…maybe that's it. Maybe you're better off without me…" Harry shook his head, knowing that Ron had a point. But Hermione looked between the two of them and tears began to well up.

"Oh, stop it, you two! Look what's become of us! We've been friends since that troll fight. How come we didn't let a troll get between us but we're now arguing over stupid love triangles!

"Harry, those dreams you've had, about Voldemort"—Harry looked at Hermione in surprise. She had never said Voldemort's name with such conviction—"remember those? He wanted you to stop associating with Ron and I, wanted to stop us from being friends. If you let this get in the way of our friendship, then he'll win, Harry, and you can't let him win! The world depends on you, and you depend on us! You _have_ to trust us, Harry, you simply have to, for your own survival! Because I can't bear the thought of losing you, Harry!" At this, Hermione buried her face in Harry's shoulder and started bawling. Harry stroked her back and tried to comfort her. He gave Ron a heartfelt look of apology.

"Hermione," Harry said, "you're right. I can't let something like this break us.

"Ron, I'm so sorry. I remember hating it when you didn't believe that I hadn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire. I trust you."

"Thanks, Harry," said Ron, breathing an enormous sigh of relief, "Hermione? I love you, and, well, if Harry makes you happy, that's cool with me. I'll get over it." Ron smiled sheepishly. Hermione looked at Ron with the most heartfelt joy.

"Oh, thank you, Ron!" she cried, running to give him a hug and kissing him on the cheek. Harry joined the embrace, and all of the torment of the past few months finally seemed to be ending.

"Now, wait a minute," Ron said, "when did you two start _sleeping_ together?"

…

Harry had a dream about Voldemort again that night, but this time he had intended it. Voldemort sneered coldly, pointing his wand at Harry. Behind him, Ron and Hermione were shackled in black chains.

"_So, Harry, you have refused my demands. How very foolish. Now their lives are in my hands, and their deaths will haunt your conscience forever._"

"Voldemort," Harry said with conviction, "you'll never kill my friends, because I won't let you. They'll stand by me to the bitter end and we'll fight you and we will not fail." Voldemort laughed coldly. The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood on end, but he stayed firm.

"_Fool! Do you think you can match wands with the most powerful sorcerer in the world? Your friends will die, and you along with them. And then I will reign immortal!_" Voldemort turned his wand on Harry. Harry felt his own wand rise to meet Voldemort's Killing Curse. His red light connected with Voldemort's green light, and they were locked in a struggle once again, fighting to keep the magical energy away.

Harry felt his energy drain alarmingly quickly. He fell to one knee, and Voldemort pushed his wand forever, anticipating the final blow. Suddenly though, Ron and Hermione were freed from their chains, and they shot their own beams of light at Voldemort; Ron's blue and Hermione's gold. The three friends moved inward, concentrating their beams of energy. Voldemort could not handle all three of them. There was a cracking noise, followed by a large explosion when the energy collided. When the smoke cleared, there was no trace of Lord Voldemort.

"Did…did we kill him?" Ron asked.

"No, he Disapparated," Hermione said.

"So? We taught him a lesson," Harry said, "He can't kill me, because I've got a power he'll never know—"

"Okay, Harry," Ron said, "we get it. You don't have to spell it out for us."

…

The next day, Harry went down to the Common Room to find Ron and Hermione waiting for him. Everyone else had apparently gone to breakfast. Hermione greeted Harry with a warm kiss, and then Ron smiled and gave him a hug.

"So, you weren't lying," Harry said as he snuggled next to Hermione, "You're really okay with us?"

"Well, I'll get used to it," Ron said. Harry shook his head with a smile. Suddenly, the portrait opened and Ginny walked in. She smiled when she saw Harry and Hermione sitting so closely, but somehow it seemed forced. She left the room a bit faster than was natural.

"Suppose Ginny will have to get used to it, too," Hermione said.

"What?" Harry and Ron asked.

"Harry, she was lying to you, too. I overheard her talking to her friends, saying she still liked you." Ron's ears turned red.

"Sorry, Harry. My sister's a real nutter."

"It's okay, I'm used to hanging around with nutters." From there the conversation deterred to Quidditch, which left Hermione hopelessly lost, but she didn't care in the slightest. Being with her two best friends and being happy was a blessing, even if she couldn't tell a Quaffle from a Bludger.

*FIN*


End file.
